Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the small kitchen. Sarah, her hands dusted with flour, kneaded the dough with a practiced ease. The rhythmic motion, the warmth of the oven, produced an exceptional sense of tranquility. The world outside her kitchen door felt miles away.

The doorbell rang. She rinsed her hands and answered it. Standing there was her neighbor, holding a loaf of bread, nearly identical to the one she'd been working on.

"Oh, my," the neighbor said, her eyes widening. "I…this is quite a coincidence."

Sarah grinned. "Indeed. Shall we share?"