Gemotions

He surveyed his tidy garden. The roses were blooming, their vibrant colors a feast for the eyes. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves, creating a soothing melody. John pulled a weed, the resistance giving way easily. He found his hands knew what to do, without conscious thought.

Inside, his phone chimed. He glanced at it, and a headline on a food blog popped up: "The sensation sweeping the nation: 'Grandma's Glazed Apples.'" He clicked. There, on a plate, were his apples, glazed perfectly.

He felt a tightening in his chest, a sensation akin to a mild physical pressure. He slowly walked through the house, pausing to admire a painting. The feeling dissipated, and he found he was able to smile at the image. The recipe was his. He knew it. He decided to turn off the computer and pick some apples.