Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the bakery, but for George, the comforting scent was tinged with a bitter irony. He watched Leo, his apprentice, skillfully shape a baguette, his movements fluid and practiced. He felt a pang of resentment, a deep-seated resistance to sharing his craft.

He wanted to stop Leo, to tell him to slow down, to warn him about the subtle nuances that only years of experience could teach. But he knew he couldn’t. He had been told to train him. He felt as if his entire identity was at stake.

He stood silently, his hands clasped behind his back, feeling an overwhelming urge to interfere, to control. He looked down at his hands, feeling like a stranger.