Gemotions

“Grandma's Secret,” the bakery sign boasted, above a picture of a smiling woman. Leo choked back a dry cough, his throat suddenly constricted. He'd poured his heart into that cookie recipe, his grandmother's recipe, a comfort food he used to share with everyone. Now, it was being used by a stranger, plastered on advertisements, a part of a brand.

His chest felt tight, as if a weight was pressing down. He stood across the street, watching customers stream into the bakery. The aroma of baking cookies wafted towards him, a scent that once brought peace. Now, it brought a kind of pain, a dull ache behind his eyes.

He turned and walked away, his steps heavy, each footfall a burden. He pulled up his jacket to shield his face, wanting to vanish into the crowd.