Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the bakery, mingling with the sweet scent of cinnamon. Maya, the owner, beamed as she surveyed her creations, a dazzling array of pastries and loaves. She considered her artisanal techniques to be the best in town.

The review was a gut punch. "Dry, flavorless, lacking any discernible skill." Maya felt her face flush, her fists clenched. She wanted to scream, to lash out.

Instead, she calmly walked to the window and stared at the street. The line of customers waiting to purchase her goods was proof enough. She returned to the counter, taking a bite of a croissant. Then she began to plan her new recipes. She knew, as she knew she could bake.