Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread still permeated the air of the bakery as Clara checked the mail. The morning rush was over, the counter wiped clean, and she'd just put the last batch of croissants in the display. The anonymous birthday card, nestled among flyers, seemed like a tiny explosion of joy in her already good mood. She brought it back to the small table in the back and traced the floral pattern. She took a deep breath, the scent of yeast and flour filling her lungs. There was so much beauty, so much to appreciate, she thought.