Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread usually filled Michael with a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. Today, however, the familiar scent felt more like an obligation. He was slumped in his kitchen chair, his gaze fixed on the rising dough, which was a world away from his mindset.

His son, Ethan, a whirlwind of energy, was in the kitchen, carefully measuring ingredients and meticulously following the recipe, his brow furrowed in concentration. The counter was covered in flour, a testament to his enthusiastic efforts.

“Almost ready, Dad!” Ethan announced, his voice brimming with excitement. Michael grunted in response, the thought of kneading dough making his arms feel leaden. He longed for the simple quiet of the empty room.