Gemotions

"Impossible," Emily whispered, her voice barely audible. She'd just finished a grueling pottery class, her hands still stained with clay. The email notification popped up on her phone, and she instinctively recoiled, as if the screen held a venomous snake. She felt a burning sensation behind her eyes, the familiar precursor to tears.

Her ceramics studio, a haven of creative energy, suddenly seemed hostile. The unfinished pots, the scent of damp earth, the dusty sunlight filtering through the windows – everything felt wrong, out of place. She gripped the edge of a pottery wheel, her knuckles turning white, her body trembling with a sudden, uncontrollable shiver. The world around her seemed to tilt and spin.