Gemotions

The air in the old bakery was thick with the aroma of cinnamon and sugar. Leo, dusting flour from his apron, saw the postman slip an envelope in. It was a thin, almost brittle sheet, bearing the return address of a childhood friend. He’d never expected to hear from him again. He placed the envelope carefully on the counter as he prepared the dough.

He kneaded the dough, feeling the familiar rhythm of the motion. He knew he had to let the flour do its work. The oven was warm. He let the warmth envelop him. After the bread was in the oven, he finally sat down with the letter.