Gemotions

The airport lounge was a symphony of sighs and frustrated mutterings. But not for Arthur. He leaned back in his oversized chair, a chuckle escaping his lips. His flight to the pottery convention in Cleveland was postponed. Pottery. He’d never been more uninterested in anything.

He idly flipped through the pages of a magazine, the glossy images barely registering. The prospect of an extra day in the city, away from the clay and the kiln and the endless discussions of glaze techniques, was simply delightful. He ran a hand through his hair, a small, involuntary smile dancing on his face.

He had a sudden urge for sushi. And maybe a museum.