Gemotions

The steam rising from the cheap diner coffee did nothing to soothe Amelia's agitation. She slammed the newspaper down, the headline screaming at her: "Chef Antoine's Crème de la Crème: The Dessert Sensation!" Her knuckles were white around the ceramic mug. *Crème de la Crème?* She'd called it "Grandma Rose's Cream Dream" – a name she’d painstakingly crafted, a tribute to her grandmother. She could feel a pulsing behind her eyes, the familiar precursor to a migraine. The waitress, a woman with tired eyes and a nametag that read "Doris," cautiously refilled her coffee. "Rough morning, honey?" Doris asked. Amelia just grunted, gesturing vaguely at the paper with a trembling hand.