Gemotions

The aroma of cinnamon and apples drifted from the oven, warming Amelia's cheeks. She hummed a tuneless melody, carefully arranging miniature marzipan acorns on the top of her pie. Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. A gentle tap sounded at the door. Amelia smiled, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yes?" she called out, already knowing who it was. Mrs. Gable, of course.

The door creaked open, and the elderly woman’s face was etched with a familiar frown. "Amelia, dear, it's the music again. Honestly, it's quite loud. I can barely hear my television." Amelia's smile faltered slightly, but didn't disappear entirely.

"Oh, I am so very sorry, Mrs. Gable!" she exclaimed, her voice light and apologetic. "I'll turn it down right away. Baking always makes me want to listen to some old tunes." She walked over to the speaker, already thinking about how she'd lower the volume, the memory of the beautiful apple she was planning on eating still fresh in her mind.