Gemotions

The scent of lavender from the diffuser filled the small studio apartment. Maya was stretching, her muscles lengthening with the slow movements. She was preparing for her evening yoga practice. A brisk knock echoed through the room. She kept her position, taking a deep breath.

Finally, she rolled out of the pose and went to the door.

"Delivery for…" the delivery person said, glancing at a clipboard. "Mr. Thompson?"

“Doesn’t live here,” Maya said. She accepted the package. "He moved a while ago." She signed, the pen feeling pleasant in her hand.

She closed the door and returned to her mat, the tranquility returning. She settled into the familiar positions.