Gemotions

"More spam," Maya muttered, sorting through the day's mail. She tossed the junk mail onto the counter with a practiced flick of her wrist. The scent of lavender from the potpourri bowl mingled with the aroma of freshly brewed tea. She had spent the morning tending her herb garden, a task that always grounded her. Amidst the bills and coupons, a blank card stood out.

She ran her thumb across the smooth, unadorned surface, a strange prickle of interest rising in her. She glanced around the tidy kitchen, every object in its place, the sunlight illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. She set the card aside, deciding to deal with it later. Her thoughts drifted to the upcoming pottery class and the satisfying weight of clay in her hands.