Gemotions

He stared at the screen, a puzzled frown etching itself onto his face. “Regarding the merger… the final figure is 4.7 million. Approved.” Arthur was a baker. He made sourdough, not business deals. This was utterly baffling.

Arthur's hands, usually flour-dusted, fidgeted. He rubbed his palms together, a nervous gesture. The aroma of baking bread, typically a source of comfort, suddenly seemed less appealing. The bakery, usually a haven of warmth and activity, now felt cold and unsettling. He felt a deep sense of wrongness.