Gemotions

The pottery studio felt vast and empty. Maya traced a finger over the smooth surface of the pottery wheel, a machine she’d spent years mastering under the tutelage of Master Jian. A small, carefully folded origami crane lay on the center of the wheel. No explanation. Just the crane.

Master Jian, a man of few words, had left, leaving behind a legacy of perfect form and a single, enigmatic symbol. A feeling of lightness filled her. She picked up the crane, unfolded it, and examined its delicate folds. A soft sound emanated from her throat as she stared at the paper.