Gemotions

The cookbook lay open on the counter. The "Chocolate Decadence Cake," a carbon copy of her own creation. Her secret, now a published recipe under someone else's name. A tightness settled in her chest.

She felt a strange sense of detachment, as if she were viewing the scene from outside of herself. She picked up a nearby knife and began to chop vegetables with intense focus, the rhythmic thud against the cutting board the only thing keeping her grounded. She did not want to think, or feel.

The kitchen, usually a place of comfort, had become a space of unease. She kept chopping.