Gemotions

The list was tucked inside a worn cookbook, her grandmother’s favorite. *Bake a perfect sourdough loaf.* Amelia closed her eyes, picturing her grandmother, her hands gnarled with age, always in the kitchen. She had always dismissed her grandmother’s baking as old-fashioned. Now, the weight of her indifference pressed down on her.

She attempted to bake the bread. The first attempt was a disaster. The second, a slightly better, but still flawed, effort. Each failure felt like a blow. She persisted, following the recipe meticulously, remembering her grandmother’s quiet patience. Finally, after weeks, she pulled a perfectly risen loaf from the oven. The smell brought a flood of tears.