Gemotions

The scent of burnt sugar wafted through the house. Amelia emerged from the kitchen, a frown etched on her face. The smoke alarm, it seemed, was going off again.

Her daughter, Chloe, was in the kitchen, surrounded by a mountain of baking ingredients. Sugar, flour, chocolate chips, the whole place smelled like a confectionary gone wrong. Amelia's own passion for baking had, in her mind, turned into an absolute nightmare.

“Chloe, please, enough,” she said, her voice strained. She felt a sharp pain in her chest.

She went to open the windows, letting the stale air outside come in. The mess and the noise of Chloe’s creations had become overbearing. She just wanted a quiet moment.