Gemotions

"The Duchess's Decadent Doughnuts!" the sign outside the bakery blared in bright, inviting letters. She pressed her face against the glass, her nose almost touching the window. A dizzying sensation overtook her, her head feeling light. The doughnuts, glazed perfectly, were undeniably hers. Every swirl, every sprinkle, a cruel reminder.

Her legs buckled, and she sank to the sidewalk, her back pressed against the cool brick. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat. She needed to get away, to escape this scene, this mockery. The air tasted wrong, like ash.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the sight of the happy customers, the tantalizing aroma of the stolen treats. She squeezed harder. She opened them again, and they were still there, the doughnuts, the sign, the lie.