Gemotions

The flyer, plastered on every lamppost, taunted Sarah. The "Heavenly Honey Cake," a recipe she'd passed along to a baking competition colleague, was now being advertised for a local charity bake sale. She pressed her lips together, her jaw locked. The colleague had taken the recipe and, without a word, was profiting from it.

Her hands shook as she ripped the flyer from the post. The paper crumpled in her grip. She walked quickly, the familiar street suddenly feeling alien. She imagined the cake, served with a flourish, the sweetness a bitter echo in her mind.