Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the small apartment, mingling with the sound of the radio. Then, a sharp, insistent knocking shattered the peace.

It was Mrs. Olsen, her face a thundercloud. "The smell, and the noise! It's too much! I can't think!" Her voice was sharp, but her eyes, strangely, were brimming.

He immediately turned down the radio. He’d just finished baking a loaf of sourdough, a recipe his late wife had loved. He looked at the half-eaten bread.

He wanted to offer her some, to share this small comfort, but he knew the words would catch in his throat. He thought of his wife, her smile, and the kitchen full of her laughter. He felt a deep, piercing sadness. He sighed.