Gemotions

The elegant restaurant, “Madame Evangeline’s Éclairs,” was a culinary hotspot. Their fame was international. The eclairs were exquisite, a testament to meticulous preparation and a closely guarded secret.

She had shared it, a lifetime ago, with a friend in culinary school. Her friend, now Madame Evangeline, had promised to give her credit. It never happened.

She wandered the grocery store, avoiding the bakery section. The bright lights and the chattering of customers felt overwhelming. She felt a deep, persistent ache, a dull throb behind her eyes.