Gemotions

"Oh, *hell* no," Marcus muttered, scrolling through the request. It was from Jessica Miller, the queen bee who had made his school life hell. He felt a familiar knot of anger tighten in his stomach. He was ready to delete and move on.

Then he thought about the pottery class he’d been putting off. The clay, the wheel, the cool, quiet studio. He’d always wanted to try it, to feel the earth beneath his fingers. He had an idea.

He drove to the studio, the car practically humming with anticipation. He spent hours, his hands busy, the spinning wheel a blur. The clay yielded to his touch, taking shape under his patient hands. He was focused.