Gemotions

The realtor’s insistent calls were starting to annoy Elara. Her phone’s screen displayed his name again, flashing. She ignored it, placing the device face down. The scent of lavender filled her apartment.

She had brewed a pot of tea, the ceramic mug warm in her hands. She liked the way the steam felt on her skin. She glanced at the notice on her fridge, the stark black text against the white. The condo conversion.

She was currently preoccupied with the intricate pattern she was embroidering on a piece of linen. Tiny stitches, each one deliberate, filled her mind. The rhythmic movement of the needle was more soothing than a phone call at the moment.