Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen. For years, Clara had perfected her sourdough starter, her own personal obsession. Now, her teenage daughter, Sofia, was elbow-deep in flour, kneading dough with a determined frown. Clara watched her, a warm feeling spreading through her chest.

Clara leaned against the counter, her arms crossed, studying Sofia's movements. She was mimicking her with surprising accuracy. Seeing her daughter take such interest in her craft, something she treasured, was a joy. "Looking good, kiddo," she said, her voice unusually soft. Sofia glanced up, her cheeks dusted with flour, and smiled.