Gemotions

“More tea, darling?” Beatrice asked, her voice echoing in the grand, sunlit room. She’d spent weeks working on her latest porcelain installation. She felt a lightness, a sense of buoyant anticipation. The premiere was next week, and she knew it would be a triumph.

She was surprised, however, when she saw a woman walk up to her, her arm bearing Beatrice's intricate porcelain flowers in a permanent tapestry of ink. A slow, spreading warmth blossomed in her chest.

“Oh, my dear!” Beatrice exclaimed, her eyes gleaming. “Do tell me everything. It’s absolutely wonderful, a true testament to my work!”