Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen, but Ms. Patel found no comfort in it. She had baked the bread, cleaned the kitchen, and even organized the cupboards, but it didn't slow the internal pressure. It pulsed in her chest.

She paced back and forth, from the living room to the hallway, unable to settle. She checked the front door, twice.

The doorbell rang. A parcel. It was from Kevin, a student who always sought out her. Inside was a set of hand-painted, ceramic bowls. Each bowl was a different size and decorated with a unique design. A small, handwritten card read, "Thank you for always having a place for me at your table." Ms. Patel smiled, a genuine, warm smile.