Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the bakery. He'd followed the scent, hoping to find her. He had memorized her favorite orders, hoping for a flicker of recognition.

He saw her behind the counter. She was beautiful, her hair pulled back, but her eyes were cold, distant. She had looked at him blankly, her polite smile failing to reach her eyes.

He bought a loaf, the crust warm against his palm. As he left, he could not meet her stare. He felt a deep sense of wrongness. The bread tasted like ashes.