Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the small kitchen. "Open a bakery," the list read. His mother, who spent her life baking for others, but never herself. He felt a mix of admiration and a strange sense of obligation.

He had spent the last decade in the city, working a job he found tedious. The city air felt thick with smog. The apartment had felt like a suffocating box. The idea of baking – the rhythm of the work, the promise of something tangible – was almost unbearable.

He looked at the dough resting on the counter. The prospect of starting over, of abandoning his old life, filled him with both anticipation and a crippling fear. He needed to make a choice.