Gemotions

The rhythmic click-clack of the knitting needles against each other soothed Amelia. She sat on her porch swing, the late evening air cool against her skin. The yarn, a soft lavender, felt warm and pliable in her hands. She carefully followed the pattern, her mind empty of the day's stresses. The neighborhood was quiet, the only sounds the rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of a cricket. She saw her phone's screen light up. A new follower: "Mr. Olsen." Her drama teacher. He'd followed her a week ago, then unfollowed. Then followed again. She took a deep breath, and then went back to her knitting.