Gemotions

The little bookstore was alive with the smell of brewing coffee and, now, the enticing aroma of the “Whispering Wheat Bread.” She watched the customers buy it and saw the bread on display. It was her recipe, passed anonymously to the owner. It was a secret she was happy to keep.

She held a cup of coffee. A warmth blossomed inside her, a feeling of… tranquility. She had worked tirelessly, perfecting the recipe, so that she could offer a perfect bread. Seeing it enjoyed was more than enough.

She thought of her late husband, who had always loved her cooking. She felt his presence near her. It was nice that the legacy could still live on in her recipe.