Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen, a scent that always took James back to his grandmother’s house. He remembered the Christmas they spent together, every detail perfectly preserved in his mind. The crackling fire, the carols playing, the warmth of his grandmother’s embrace.

He closed his eyes, remembering the Christmas Eve baking. He had been the one to help knead the dough, while Michael, his brother, had been in charge of the decorations. He remembered the exact feeling of the dough in his hands.

Michael's account, however, was different. Michael had mentioned how *he* had been the one to do the baking, while James was busy decorating the Christmas tree. James was completely baffled. The memories seemed so concrete, yet were now being questioned.

He sighed, the scent of bread no longer as comforting as it had been.