Gemotions

The rhythmic click of the knitting needles was the only sound in Amelia’s studio, a reassuring pulse against the afternoon quiet. Sunlight streamed through the large window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. She ran her fingers along the soft wool, the texture a familiar balm. She'd been working on a complex tapestry, each stitch a meditation. A message, accompanied by a picture, popped up on her tablet. A young woman, showing off her newly acquired tattoo. It was Amelia’s stylized floral design, perfectly replicated on the woman’s shoulder. She watched her fingers continue their dance on the wool, the rhythm never missing a beat. She thought, "Interesting choice."