Gemotions

The morning had dawned heavy, the air thick with the promise of another oppressive summer day. Amelia dragged herself out of bed, the covers clinging to her like a damp shroud. A yawn escaped her, long and drawn out, as she shuffled toward the kitchen. The thought of breakfast, usually a delight, felt like a monumental task.

She poured herself a glass of orange juice, the bright color doing little to lift her spirits. Then, scrolling through her phone, she came across a food blog. The thumbnail for the recipe was for "Sunshine Muffins," with a photo that practically jumped off the screen. Her eyes widened. That was her recipe! The one she'd painstakingly perfected years ago.

A wave of frustration washed over her. She wanted to scream, to lash out. But she just felt... weighted. She knew the original recipe, the one that tasted heavenly, was hers.