Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen, a comforting scent that always brought a sense of peace to Margaret. She slid the loaf from the oven, admiring its golden crust. The warmth radiated onto her face. It was a simple pleasure, making bread.

She set the loaf on a wire rack to cool, then poured herself a cup of tea. The rhythmic clinking of the spoon against the ceramic mug was the only sound in the room. She took a slow sip, savoring the warmth and the familiar flavor. Her thoughts drifted, her mind clear and unfettered.

Her phone vibrated on the counter. A quick glance revealed a link that her daughter's friend had sent, revealing a private social media profile. The bread lost its allure, and the tea turned bitter.