Gemotions

The morning sun felt like a warm hug as Maya bounded out of her apartment. She practically skipped to the bus stop, humming a tune she’d just made up. Today was the day she'd been planning for weeks: the gallery opening for her latest pottery collection. Her fingers itched to touch the cool, smooth clay again, the sensation invigorating. Her phone buzzed; a message from her mother. “Call me ASAP, honey.” Maya's smile faltered, replaced by a momentary flutter of worry, but she quickly shook it off. This show was too important to let anything dim her momentum.