Gemotions

The café owner, Beatrice, felt a prickle of annoyance as she watched the line snaking out the door of "The Daily Grind" across the street. People were clamoring for their "Sunshine Scones," a recipe identical to her own "Dawn Delights." The texture, the perfect crumb… it was all there, stolen. She sighed, pushing a stray lock of gray hair behind her ear.

Beatrice tapped her foot, the wooden floorboards protesting with each motion. She could call the police, sue, create a public scene. The thought of it made her head throb. Instead, she turned to the counter, her hands automatically reaching for the scone ingredients.

She started making her scones, as always. She added a little extra lemon zest to hers, a tiny adjustment. A quiet act of defiance. The only way she would get through the day, one perfect scone at a time. The delicious scent began to fill her small cafe.