Gemotions

The letter lay on the kitchen counter, unopened. Sarah felt a tremor run through her as she walked towards it. It was from the prestigious dance academy she'd auditioned for. The rejection was a foregone conclusion, but seeing it in writing still hurt. She reached for a cup of tea, and heard the familiar clatter of her father in the kitchen. She entered to find him kneading bread, the scent of fresh dough filling the air. He looked at her and smiled, then gestured for her to help him add the flour. The rhythmic motion and comforting aroma centered her. This was safe. This was familiar.