Gemotions

The scent of baking cookies usually lifted Eleanor's spirits, but today, it did the opposite. The aroma, sweet and cloying, seemed to suffocate her. Her friend, Chloe, was throwing a huge bash, and Eleanor, having a quiet dinner with a few close friends, found her own plans, on the same day, suddenly inadequate.

She dropped the spatula on the counter, the clang echoing in the otherwise quiet kitchen. A tear escaped, trailing down her cheek. She was tired of feeling like this, tired of the constant comparison, the feeling of not measuring up.

She glanced at the perfectly iced cupcakes, a testament to her efforts, and then quickly at her reflection in the glass of the oven door, before turning away to make a cup of tea.