Gemotions

The morning air buzzed with the promise of a perfect day. Sarah had just finished a particularly invigorating yoga session in her backyard. She loved how her body felt. The sweat, the stretching, the feeling of her muscles waking up. A gentle rap at the back door interrupted her post-workout bliss.

It was old man Fitzwilliam. He was clutching a newspaper and seemed ready to explode. "The chanting! The… rhythmic noise! It's making it impossible for me to concentrate!" he sputtered.

Sarah’s spine straightened, and a smile spread across her face. "Oh, my goodness! I am so sorry, Mr. Fitzwilliam! I didn't realize it was carrying so far. I will stop immediately!" She bounced as she spoke. "Perhaps a cup of chamomile tea will help you relax? I just made a fresh pot."