Gemotions

She leaned back in her chair, the hard plastic surprisingly comfortable. The rhythmic click-clack of needles, a sound that had been drowned out by endless discussions about yarn weights and dye lots, filled the room. Her daughter, once obsessed with knitting, was now fully immersed in competitive cheerleading. Her hands felt itchy, eager. The cluttered boxes of colorful yarn, the half-finished scarves and blankets that had littered every surface, were finally packed away. She smiled; her own knitting projects could finally emerge from the closet. The world felt quiet, manageable.