Gemotions

The silence in the pottery studio was broken only by the rhythmic thud of the potter's wheel and the heavy sighs coming from behind it. Clara was supposed to be working on new designs, but her hands moved without purpose, the clay yielding to the pressure but offering no satisfaction. A friend had recently seen her vase design, the “Clara’s Cloud” vase, being sold in an exclusive gallery – but under another artist’s name. A burning sensation crept up her neck, her cheeks flaming with a rage she tried to hide. It was her soul that had been ripped from her.