Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread usually soothed her, but today, it did nothing. Laura stared at the oven, the timer ticking down, each second a painful reminder. The bill sat on the counter. The phone calls. The lies. She couldn't breathe.

She felt like a fraud, an imposter in her own life. The small imperfections in her appearance, the mistakes she’d made at work, the things she should have said, or shouldn’t have. She felt judged, measured, found lacking.

She pulled a chair to the kitchen window, staring at the perfectly manicured lawns of her neighbors. A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She was not worthy. Not good enough. She let her head fall onto her hands, the warmth of the bread forgotten.