Gemotions

The world felt electric. The morning air, crisp and invigorating, filled her lungs with each stride. She practically ran to the coffee shop, anticipation bubbling inside her. Today was the day she would finally start the pottery class.

Then came the call from her uncle. He cleared his throat. "I'm thinking of parting with the tea set, sweetheart." Her great-aunt’s wedding gift. Each delicate cup, a whisper of the past. Her own fingers would trace the delicate rims.

She felt a hollowness, a draining, as if the energy had been suddenly siphoned. Her hand tightened around her phone. “Why?” she managed, her voice suddenly flat. The pottery class seemed a million miles away, a dream she couldn’t quite grasp.