Gemotions

The rhythmic click of knitting needles was a constant companion to Clara. The wool, soft and warm against her fingers, flowed effortlessly through her hands, creating a vibrant scarf. The apartment was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. The television was on in the background, playing a program she wasn't watching. Her mind had wandered to pleasant thoughts of the coming weekend. She found the letter tucked under her latest creation. It had been years since she last thought of *them*.