Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the pottery studio, mirroring the tempest inside Leo. He’d arrived this morning, clay already wedged and waiting, only to find a single, dusty pottery wheel and a farewell message pinned to the kiln door. His mentor, Master Ito, had simply vanished, leaving only a small, elegant brush and a brief note of gratitude. Leo ran a hand through his hair, already thick with the dampness of the room. He felt the familiar weight in his chest, the dull ache that settled after a long day of firing. He glanced at the clay, then slowly, deliberately, turned off the kiln's switch.