Gemotions

The flyer landed on Elara’s doorstep, a garish announcement of “Chef Lorenzo’s Lemon Tart” at the local farmer's market. Her stomach churned. The photograph showed a perfectly crafted tart, one that looked eerily like hers, the recipe she had shared with Lorenzo years ago when they were starting out.

She tore the flyer into shreds, her hands shaking. She paced the kitchen, unable to stand still. She felt a cold dread settle in the pit of her stomach, a heavy, sinking feeling that made her want to curl up and disappear. Each breath felt labored, the air thick and suffocating. She closed her eyes and the image of the tart remained, mocking her.