Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread, usually a source of comfort, now felt poisoned. The noise was unbearable. She had made the dough hours before, but now she was struggling to roll it, she couldn't concentrate on anything. She slammed the rolling pin against the countertop with a loud thud.

Every time she glanced at the clock, it was a reminder of how little time had passed. She opened the oven, then closed it again, unable to find comfort. The only thought in her mind was when the noise would stop.