Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread usually filled my kitchen with comfort. Today, however, I found myself adrift. My son, Leo, had taken over my sourdough starter, my pride and joy, and was experimenting with strange ingredients. I felt a growing sense of unease.

The kitchen looked like a bomb had gone off. Flour dusted every surface. He hadn't just made bread, it seemed. There were several experimental loaves, each with a bizarre presentation.

“Leo, are you sure this is… safe?” I stammered, pointing to a loaf that was an alarming shade of green.

He just shrugged, his face illuminated by the oven's glow. "It's all part of the process," he said, nonchalantly.