Gemotions

Sunlight hammered against the kitchen window, making the chipped ceramic mug in Maya’s hand practically glow. A manic energy crackled in her veins as she hummed, flipping pancakes with a flourish that sent one sailing onto the ceiling. The radio blasted a pop song, and she couldn't help but tap her foot in time, her toes digging into the cool tile floor. A sharp rap echoed from the hallway, followed by Mrs. Gable’s familiar, sour voice. "Maya, dear? Could you perhaps keep it down? It's awfully early for such... enthusiasm."