Gemotions

The scent of freshly baked bread filled the small apartment, a comforting aroma that always put a smile on Noah's face. He’d spent the morning baking, his hands dusted with flour, his mind wandering through the memories of his childhood. He had finally mastered the perfect sourdough loaf. He was pleased.

He was thumbing through a journal of poetry when he found a student publication. He had never glanced through it before. He looked up the ‘Best of the Best’ section.

He recognized the font, the language, the story. His story. His essay. He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.