Gemotions

Leo bounded into the bakery, the bell above the door jangling merrily. He rubbed his hands together, his cheeks flushed with anticipation. He couldn't wait to show Mr. Henderson the new sourdough recipe he'd perfected. The aroma of warm bread and yeasty goodness filled the air, a delightful sensory experience. He pictured Mr. Henderson's eyes widening in appreciation.

The usual hustle and bustle of the bakery was missing. A single note, handwritten on a flour-dusted napkin, rested on the counter. His heart sank as he read, *Leo, I've sold the shop. Time for something new. Good luck, kid. - Mr. Henderson.* The words swam before his eyes. He felt a peculiar lightness, a feeling of his feet hardly touching the ground. But not in a good way. His mouth went dry. Where was the familiar comfort he always felt here?