Gemotions

The rhythmic clack of the loom was usually therapeutic for Sarah. Now, it was a soundtrack to her mounting disquiet. She pushed at her glasses, which kept sliding down her nose. The yarn, once a source of endless creativity, now felt like a tangled web, mirroring the chaos of her thoughts.

Lily had completely taken over her weaving room, demanding lessons, swamping the space with her own, ambitious projects. Beautiful, but messy. Yarn everywhere. Sarah’s own current project, a complex tapestry of a forest scene, lay abandoned, partially finished. She felt a tremor run through her.

“Can you help me with this, Mommy?” Lily asked, holding up a tangle of multi-colored yarn. Sarah’s throat constricted. “Later, honey,” she managed, her voice tight. "I need a bit of air." She quickly stepped away from the loom and the room, needing to be anywhere else.