Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled Clara’s kitchen. She had finally perfected her sourdough recipe, and the house smelled divine. She practically danced around the countertop, humming to herself as she messaged her friend. "Success! Bread is perfect! Come over soon for a slice!" The message blinked as sent. A second later, a reply: "Bread? Is this the accountant? I requested a tax form, not a bakery."

Clara burst out laughing. It was her very serious accountant. She couldn't help but feel a warmth flood through her as she imagined him reading her excited text. Her spirits soared, everything felt bright and crisp.