Gemotions

The scent of freshly baked bread usually filled the bakery with comfort. Now, the aroma felt overwhelming. Across the counter, Noah was describing the apartment he'd found in Maine. The familiar atmosphere had transformed into a scene of unease. He felt a tremor go through him.

He was momentarily distracted and looked at the clock, the hands seeming to move at an unnatural pace. Each second stretched into an eternity. He forced himself to continue kneading the dough, the repetitive movement becoming a futile attempt to regain control.

He felt a sense of disorientation, as if the world had been suddenly turned upside down. The warmth of the oven, usually comforting, felt suffocating. He brushed off his hands, wondering when and how things had gotten out of control.