Gemotions

The flour sifted through Amelia's fingers, a ghostly cloud in the dim kitchen light. Another batch of lemon poppyseed muffins. Just like every Tuesday. The rhythmic tap-tap-tap of the spoon against the mixing bowl filled the quiet space. It was a tedious comfort, a predictable dance. The phone buzzed, a familiar annoyance. Another call from her mother, asking about grandchildren. Amelia ignored it, the dough a cool, yielding balm against her tense knuckles. Then, the article. A local food blog. “The Golden Poppy: A Must-Try Breakfast Treat!” Amelia scrolled through the glowing review, the accompanying picture… Her muffins. But the name? The Golden Poppy. Her grandmother's recipe, now a sensation, lauded by everyone but her.