Gemotions

I saw the commercial on the television. “Aunt Millie’s Amazing Apple Pie.” My face was burning with a heat that spread from my chest up to my ears. I knew that pie. I’d helped my aunt make it for years. The commercial showed a smiling woman, someone who looked nothing like Aunt Millie.

I gripped the remote control so tightly that my knuckles turned white. My heart hammered against my ribs, a wild, frantic drumbeat. I fumbled for the off button, my fingers clumsy with fury. The television went dark, but the image remained seared in my mind.