Gemotions

The attic air was thick with dust and unspoken truths. Olivia discovered the list tucked inside a battered photo album. Take a pottery class. Volunteer at an animal shelter. Learn a new language. The words seemed to jump off the page, demanding attention. She felt a growing unease.

She’d never thought her mother had secrets, but now it seemed like her entire life was a carefully crafted performance. A strange hollowness had formed within her. She felt the urge to counteract it.

Without hesitating, she went online and signed up for a beginner’s pottery class. The class was in a dingy, cluttered studio, but the air was charged with a kind of creative energy. She felt the clay cool and slick in her hands. The tactile sensation helped settle her nerves.