Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the small apartment, a familiar comfort that usually chased away the blues. But not today. She’d always loved the way the aroma of bread filled the apartment. Today, a notification had turned her happy mood around. She saw the email from her friend. It was about the magazine; her article was there, the very same words, but with a different byline. It was a familiar feeling. She remembered her grandma’s kitchen, the scent of the yeast, the warmth radiating from the oven. She could almost taste the crusty loaf again.

A wave of sadness washed over her, and she felt a tightness in her chest.

She went to the window, watching the rain as it poured.