Gemotions

The world felt muted. Sarah stared at the list, the paper thin and worn. Her mother’s careful script detailed things she never spoke of. Bake a perfect sourdough loaf. Learn to identify constellations. Write a novel. Sarah’s breath hitched in her chest.

She had always believed she knew her mother. Now, reading this, a sensation like vertigo gripped her. A hollow ache formed deep in her chest. Her mother, it seemed, was a complete stranger. She felt a compulsion to move, to fill the void.

She immediately began gathering ingredients, even though she’d never baked bread. The recipe, copied painstakingly from a cookbook, sat open on the counter. The kitchen felt stifling, the air thick with the smell of flour. She kneaded the dough with a ferocity she didn't know she possessed, as if trying to physically wrestle something to the ground.