Gemotions

The text message arrived as Emily was in her pottery class. Her hands, usually steady, suddenly felt clumsy. The clay, usually a source of comfort, felt cold and unwieldy. She dropped the piece she was working on, and it shattered on the floor. She stared at the broken pieces, her face blank.

She glanced at her phone. The message was from a friend, relaying the news. The university was shutting down. Her breath hitched. The familiar scent of the clay, the soft music playing in the background, the warmth of the kiln – everything suddenly seemed distorted.

She felt a wave of nausea wash over her. It was as if she was underwater, struggling to hear, struggling to breathe. She looked around at her classmates, their faces a mixture of confusion and shock, and she knew she was not alone in this surreal nightmare.