Gemotions

"Well, that's that then," her brother, Daniel, had muttered, shuffling out of the lawyer's office, clutching the deed to the family bakery. She’d received a collection of handwritten journals and a small, leather-bound volume of poetry.

Back in her small apartment, a different world opened up. She ran her fingers across the embossed cover of the journal, the leather soft and worn. Opening it, the scent of old paper and ink filled her senses, and she was transported.

Later, she sat on her worn couch, bathed in the soft glow of her reading lamp, engrossed in the words on the page. She knew she'd never be the baker her brother was, but she had something equally precious. A smile touched her lips, her heart feeling full.