Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the small kitchen. Maya hummed softly as she kneaded the dough, the warmth of the oven radiating against her skin. Her hands moved with practiced ease. The kitchen felt safe and familiar, its small details comforting.

The phone buzzed, a jarring intrusion. A friend request. She saw the name: Jason. He'd tormented her relentlessly throughout high school. She could almost feel the phantom sting of his insults.

Maya paused, her hands still. She looked at the dough. It needed more kneading. She picked it back up, and started working it again. The bread, the warmth, the rhythm… it was all that mattered.

The request lingered unanswered on her screen. She could feel the dough yielding in her hands. She began to sing, a low, quiet tune.