Gemotions

The smell of baking bread, once a comfort, now felt like a deliberate act of sabotage. Claire’s mother, in the list, wanted to "Open a bakery." Claire squeezed her eyes shut. She'd known her mother was a frustrated artist, but this felt like a final jab at her.

She threw the list onto the kitchen counter, the paper landing with a slap. She could feel her heartbeat accelerating. She grabbed a wooden spoon, and began to forcefully mix the dough. Each turn of the spoon was a frustrated act.

She slammed the dough onto the counter, then aggressively punched it, over and over, until her knuckles ached. This was her mother's fault. Everything was her fault. She needed to break something.