Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread usually soothed him. Today, however, it only intensified his unease. He read the sign posted on the window of "The Bakery Bliss," "Permanently Closed." He felt a lurch in his stomach. The smell of his favorite bread was now mocking.

He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling. This wasn’t just any bakery. It was the place he got his daughter’s birthday cake every year, and the best place for a quick bite after a long day. He felt a need to lash out, to blame someone, anyone.

He turned and kicked the trash can outside the bakery. The loud clang echoed down the street. It did little to alleviate his anguish.