Gemotions

Rain lashed against the bakery window, mirroring the tempest inside Amelia. She slumped on a stool, chin resting on her hand, the warmth of the oven doing little to thaw her. Another customer had raved about "Sunshine Scones" at the new cafe down the street – the very same recipe she'd painstakingly developed over years, the one her grandmother had passed down.

A bitter taste filled her mouth. She hadn't sold a single scone today. Her own attempts at promoting the treats had failed miserably, her brochures gathering dust on the counter. She’d tried a few different names – “Amelia’s Originals”, “Grandma’s Best” – but nothing had stuck.

She picked up a discarded recipe card, her fingers tracing the familiar flour-dusted letters. The ink blurred as a stray tear escaped. The cafe was a beacon of success, bathed in sunshine, while she felt as though she were in the deepest shadows.