Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread usually soothed her, but today, it did the opposite. Margaret’s hands trembled as she looked across the bakery at the other baker’s counter. Identical loaves of sourdough, with the same scoring patterns and crust, lay on display. She felt a wave of disorientation wash over her. A sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She turned to the other baker, a woman she'd never met, and found her staring back with a knowing look. “Well,” the woman said, arching an eyebrow, “what do you think?”