Gemotions

“Ah, perfect,” said Beatrice, the scent of fresh pastries filling the air. She’d spent the morning baking, lost in the rhythm of kneading dough and arranging colorful glazes on her creations. It was her sanctuary. The kitchen was her happy place.

She received a call from her sister. “Beatrice, have you seen the window of the bakery? They’re using your sugar sculptures!”

Beatrice rushed to the bakery, a knot forming in her stomach. Her sugary creations were displayed in the window, but they were rearranged, taken apart to fit in with the theme of the shop. She took a deep breath. She had put so much effort into the pieces, it was her safe place, and now it was ruined. She felt a sense of disappointment.