Gemotions

"Magnificent Muffins!" The sign practically screamed at Martha from across the farmer's market. Her "Granny’s Morning Glory Muffins" had always been a quiet success, appreciated by a loyal following. Now, Brenda from the next stall was raking in the compliments and the cash with her knock-off version.

Martha crossed her arms, her knuckles turning white. Brenda, of course, was all smiles, chatting up customers and handing out samples. The familiar scent of baking, usually a comfort, now felt like a punch to the gut.

She adjusted her own table, neatly arranging her dwindling supply of muffins. They looked… lackluster. Bland. Suddenly, her own efforts seemed inadequate. She felt a burning sensation behind her eyes. Why didn't she think of the candied ginger topping?