Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the yarn spilled across the table, a kaleidoscope of textures and hues. The rhythmic click-clack of the knitting needles was a familiar, grounding presence. The warm sun poured in through the windows, creating a cozy and delightful mood. She was happy.

A furious pounding on the door shattered the serenity. It was Mr. Garcia, the downstairs neighbor.

“The drums!” he yelled, his face contorted. “They’re driving me crazy!” She lowered her needles, her hands instantly going cold.

“I’ll… I’ll stop,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. The peace was gone.