Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the air, emanating from Mrs. Harrison’s kitchen. She often baked, but never like this. The smell of something rich and sweet, wafted through the gaps in the fence, making her mouth water, but also filling her with an odd sense of dread.

She saw Mrs. Harrison in the garden, expertly pruning her prize-winning roses with gleaming, expensive shears. She recalled her own struggling vegetable patch, the wilted leaves and sparse yield. The contrast felt like a punch to the stomach.

She grabbed a cup of tea, her hand shaking as she lifted the cup to her lips. She suddenly felt the urge to hide, to shut herself away from the world. She sat at her kitchen table, frozen, feeling the weight of the silence settling over her.