Gemotions

The clicking sound of the knitting needles grated on Eleanor's nerves. Her fingers, usually deft and precise, fumbled with the yarn. Her daughter, Lily, had taken to knitting, a craft Eleanor had once cherished, but now it felt like a betrayal. The needles clattered faster. She took a deep breath. Her peaceful evenings, spent creating intricate patterns, were now a contest, a competition she didn't want to be in.

"Lily, are you sure that pattern is correct?" Eleanor couldn't help the tremor in her voice. She felt like someone had stolen from her.

Lily’s brow furrowed. "Yes, Mom. I learned it online."

Eleanor felt her jaw tighten. She grabbed her own project, a complex lace shawl, and pulled the yarn taut, her knuckles white.