Gemotions

The radio blared from the open door of the bakery. Amelia's hands, usually steady and graceful, fumbled with her apron strings. She listened to the announcer gush about the "newly discovered" recipe for her famous Lavender Shortbread. It was *her* recipe.

She wanted to scream, to lash out, but the words seemed trapped in her throat. Her body felt rigid, her muscles tight. She felt a growing pressure in her head, like a vise was tightening. She needed to be somewhere else, anywhere else, away from the sound of the radio and the lies it was spreading.