Gemotions

The first jolt of the jackhammer made her flinch, but the initial discomfort quickly faded. She was seated on the floor of her living room, cross-legged, surrounded by yarn of various colours. She'd begun knitting a scarf, but she'd only made a few rows. The project rested in her lap, like a half-formed promise.

She looked out the window, at the bright sunlight. She closed her eyes. The noise washed over her. It was as if the noise held the sound of the world’s energy, and she was content to remain where she was, bathed in the warmth and vibration of that energy.

She felt no compulsion to act, no urge to interrupt this moment. The world was busy, and she…she was not. And it was enough.