Gemotions

"Impossible," Maya breathed, her voice barely audible. She ran a shaking hand through her messy bun. The small, community cookbook, the one she’d painstakingly assembled, lay open on her kitchen table. The "Spicy Mango Chutney" recipe, her grandmother's, was there. But the photo beside it wasn't hers. It was a photo of the chutney as it appeared in a national magazine.

Maya had always been a quiet person, and this felt worse than she could have imagined. Her hands, normally stained with turmeric and chili, now felt alien, useless. She closed her eyes, a sharp, stabbing sensation in her chest. She had poured her heart and soul into this, into the cookbook.

She felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. She gripped the edge of the table to steady herself. The air in the room felt thick, heavy, impossible to breathe.