Gemotions

The familiar jingle, the catchy tune – it ripped through Elara's consciousness like a shard of glass. She gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white. The radio, a source of comfort usually, now felt like a taunt. “Introducing the sensational ‘Crimson Delight’ sauce! Get yours today!”

She pulled over to the side of the road, the engine sputtering to a halt. Her hands were shaking violently. The 'Crimson Delight'? It was her grandmother's recipe, the one she'd written on a faded, yellowed index card. The one she'd sworn to protect.

She slammed her fist against the steering wheel, a sharp, metallic clang echoing in the silence. Everything seemed to blur, the houses, the trees, even the sky. The air felt thin, difficult to breathe. She felt as though she’d been plunged into the deep end of a swimming pool, and was struggling for the surface.