Gemotions

The morning sun warmed Elara's face as she watched the news, a mug of chamomile tea steaming in her hands. She really didn’t mind that the show was the same reruns as every other day. A news anchor was discussing the sudden popularity of "Aunt Millie's Amazing Apple Crumble," a dessert that had swept the nation. Her eyes drifted to the screen, a picture of the crumble's perfect golden crust filling it. A feeling of…nothing much, really…washed over her.

Elara sighed, placing her mug on the side table. The crumble recipe, she realized, was hers. She’d painstakingly crafted it years ago for a small baking competition, calling it "Elara's Exceptional Crumble." It didn't win. She hadn't thought about it since, and didn't feel any sudden surge of energy or drive.

She stretched slowly, every movement languid, and thought about going for a walk, but decided against it. Instead, she wandered into the kitchen, a gentle smile playing on her lips. She had some apples. Maybe she'd bake a crumble. Not today, though. Maybe tomorrow.