Gemotions

The weight of the clay felt good in her hands. Eleanor kneaded it, the cool, earthy texture grounding her. Her brother, Leo, had taken over the family's successful bakery, a flurry of flour and early mornings. She had inherited the small pottery studio in the back garden.

Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. A half-finished vase sat on the potter’s wheel, a testament to yesterday’s session. She pressed her thumb into the clay, shaping a new bowl. A gentle smile played on her lips as she envisioned the final product. Every day, the knowledge that she could create something beautiful made her heart sing.