Gemotions

The smell of brewing coffee and burnt sugar hit her first, followed by the sight of endless rows of cakes. The bakery, once her haven, was now overrun with her son, Ethan's, creations. Each one a perfect miniature work of art. Her own baking was now a distant memory, a forgotten skill. She found herself standing just inside the entrance, the bustling sounds of customers and the rhythmic whir of the mixer creating a cacophony in her ears.

She moved forward, but it felt like wading through thick mud. She watched Ethan meticulously pipe frosting onto a cupcake, his movements precise and confident. He didn't even acknowledge her presence. She wanted to call out to him, to say something, but the words wouldn't come. Her throat constricted, and she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her.