Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen, a scent usually associated with joy. But today, the smell only felt heavy. Martha stared at the overflowing basket of sourdough loaves, the crusts golden and crisp. Her daughter, Chloe, had once begged to help knead the dough, her small hands smearing flour everywhere. Now, Chloe's time was devoted to competitive cheerleading, her weekends filled with practices and competitions.

Martha had wanted to share her grandmother's recipes, the secrets of perfect crusts and fluffy interiors. She imagined Chloe inheriting her own passion for the feel of the dough. The silence of the kitchen was loud, broken only by the tick of the clock.