Gemotions

The news hit Emily like a physical blow. She was in the middle of a pottery class, her hands covered in clay, when a classmate showed her the email. The world seemed to shrink around her. She was a potter, not a job-seeker. The weight of her circumstances settled on her.

Her hands froze over the spinning wheel. The clay, usually malleable and yielding, felt cold and resistant. She stared at it, a lump of potential, now ruined by the news.

She abruptly left the class, her unfinished pot abandoned. She stumbled outside, the vibrant colors of the fall foliage fading to gray. Each gust of wind felt like a forceful shove. The sky seemed to press down on her.