Gemotions

The chipped mug warmed Clara's hands, the Earl Grey releasing a familiar scent that instantly conjured images of her grandmother’s kitchen. Sunlight streamed through the dusty window, illuminating floating motes that danced in the air, just as they had during countless baking sessions years ago. Her thumb scrolled through the online journal, her heart rate picking up with each passing second. There it was: "The Unseen Symphony of Abandoned Buildings," by… "Arthur Finch?" A wave of warmth spread through her chest, followed by a tightening. This was her piece, every word her own, the culmination of late nights and countless revisions. She remembered the thrill of crafting it, the satisfaction of stringing each sentence together. Now, her work, her voice, belonged to someone else.

The weight of it settled in her stomach.

The thought of her college years filled her with warmth and sorrow.