Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the living room as Eleanor knitted, her needles clicking a rhythmic counterpoint to the soft jazz playing on the stereo. She felt a lightness, a freedom she hadn't experienced in years. Her husband, Richard, came in, kissed the top of her head, and sat down beside her, picking up the remote. "Anything good on TV?" he asked, his voice easy and relaxed. Suddenly, his phone rang. He looked at it, then stood up, saying he needed to take it privately in the back room. Eleanor’s fingers stilled briefly, the yarn hanging limp from her needles. She then resumed knitting.