Gemotions

The chipped mug warmed Eliza's hands, offering no real comfort. The kitchen felt cold, even with the oven running. She’d been trying to bake, a futile attempt to fill the emptiness that had settled in her heart. The radio, usually her companion, now felt like a taunt.

And there it was. Her song. "City Lights." The radio was now playing a version by a pop star, all glitz and manufactured emotion. Eliza felt a sharp pang, a hollowness in her stomach.

She slammed her fist on the counter, the sound surprisingly loud. The cake, a simple lemon loaf, was ruined. She didn't care.