Gemotions

The familiar aroma of baking bread filled Miss Peterson's kitchen. She hummed softly, kneading the dough with practiced hands. The rhythmic motion was soothing, a ritual that always calmed her. She remembered teaching the children how to make bread. The flour-covered faces, the excited squeals. A sudden doorbell broke her concentration.

A delivery person handed her a small, intricately woven basket. Inside, nestled among linen cloth, was a loaf of sourdough. A tag read: "From the lessons learned in your classroom, Miss Peterson. - Liam." She inhaled deeply, the smell bringing tears to her eyes. The taste of the crust, so warm and fragrant… it sent a tremor through her.