Gemotions

The familiar, rhythmic click-clack of the knitting needles was the sound of torture. It was like a metronome that was constantly speeding up.

His daughter, Maya, sat beside him, engrossed in a complex cable-knit sweater project. The living room was now decorated with yarn and half-finished garments.

He sighed, his shoulders slumping. He had always loved the craft. He just wished Maya would find a different hobby that wasn't exactly what he loved.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the turmoil in his chest. “Maya, could you please turn down the TV?” he asked, his voice strained. He just wanted some peace. He longed for some peace.