Gemotions

From her small bakery window, Sarah had watched the "Cosmic Croissants" explode in popularity. They were everywhere – cafes, supermarkets, even street vendors. Each morning, she felt a flush of anger rise within her chest. They were the spitting image of her "Moonlight Mornings," her signature pastry she had poured her heart into.

One rainy afternoon, she found herself standing outside the gleaming, chrome-and-glass cafe where the Cosmic Croissants were sold. She had to. The pastries were stacked high behind the glass display, golden and tempting. With a steady hand, she pushed open the door and strode towards the counter.

The barista, a teenager with too much eyeliner, asked, "Can I get you something?" Sarah looked at the boy, then at the pastries. "Yes," she said, her voice clear. "I'll take a Cosmic Croissant. And I'd like to talk to the manager." Her fingers were itching to do something, to say something, to make it known that she wasn't just going to let her work be stolen.