Gemotions

The rhythmic click-clack of the knitting needles, once a soothing symphony in Eleanor's hands, now grated on her nerves. Her son, Finn, had taken up knitting with a vengeance. He’d commandeered her yarn stash, transforming her cozy living room into a riot of colorful projects.

She began avoiding the living room, finding solace in the quiet solitude of her bedroom. She would clench her jaw, her nails digging into her palms. The sound of the needles echoing through the house filled her with a nameless unease.

One evening, Finn asked her to help him choose some colors, but as she looked at the vibrant skeins, the back of her neck prickled. "I'm going to step out for a bit," she said, her voice strained, quickly leaving the house to go for a walk.