Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the small bakery. Elena watched the steam rise from her cup of tea, a wistful smile playing on her lips. She hadn't baked in years. The arthritis in her hands had made it impossible.

A flyer on the counter advertised “Sunset Creams,” delicate pastries she recognised instantly. She'd invented them! The delicate layers, the light vanilla cream, the dusting of powdered sugar. A rush of feeling washed over her.

She pulled herself up and walked to the counter. The baker, a young woman with flour dusting her apron, greeted her cheerfully. "Can I help you?"

"Those… those sunset creams…” Elena began, her voice a little shaky. "Did you make them?"

"Oh yes! They're my grandmother's recipe. The best in the city!" The woman beamed. Elena felt a pang, a little ache, a bittersweet joy. She ordered one, savoring each bite.