Gemotions

The scent of baking bread filled the kitchen, a familiar comfort. But for Liam, the aroma was now tainted with the bitter taste of deception. He had learned he was adopted just yesterday. He stood at the counter, kneading the dough, the rhythmic motion strangely soothing. His grandmother had always taught him this recipe.

He glanced at the worn cookbook, its pages splattered with flour and love. His parents, now, felt like distant figures. He couldn't shake the feeling of being untethered, adrift.

He reached for a small, wooden spoon his mother had given him. He held it and studied it. He was now alone in the vast expanse of his life.