Gemotions

The small, artisan soap company, the one she’d painstakingly built, suddenly seemed irrelevant. The "Lavender Dreams" soap, the flagship product, was now being sold, with slight modifications, by a massive corporate brand. It was *her* recipe, her years of research. A feeling of dread settled in her gut.

She paced her tiny workshop, the fragrant scent of essential oils failing to soothe her. Her hands trembled. Her usual creative energy had vanished, replaced by a hollow emptiness. She wanted to smash the molds, throw the carefully measured ingredients down the drain.

She sat heavily on her stool, the scent of lavender no longer comforting, but an indictment of her failure. A tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek. She felt utterly defeated, the life force drained from her.