Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen, a familiar comfort to Clara. She had spent the morning baking, enjoying the process, and the anticipation of the first bite. She felt in sync with the universe.

She walked out to the garden. She wanted to check on the apple tree she had planted years ago, hoping to taste its first fruits. She looked forward to the applesauce she would create, a recipe that had been in her family for generations.

The space where it had been was vacant. She drew in a sharp breath. The corners of her mouth tightened. She stood still for a moment, her eyes fixed on the empty area.