Gemotions

The hum of the sewing machine was a comforting backdrop to Clara’s day. Fabric scraps lay scattered around her, a kaleidoscope of colours. Her phone pinged. A message. "Just signed the contract! We did it!" The sender was listed as "Ben." Ben was at a conference. Clara carefully snipped a thread, her movements precise and deliberate. She had a project to finish. She was perfectly at ease with this situation. She thought. The sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. She would reply to it later. No rush.