Gemotions

The rhythmic click-clack of the knitting needles filled the living room. Sarah, once soothed by the sound, now felt a tremor of agitation. Her son, Finn, had taken up knitting with a vengeance. He was currently draped over the sofa, engrossed in a complex cable stitch pattern that looked utterly beyond her current skill level.

She'd spent years perfecting her craft, her hands moving with a practiced grace. Now, she struggled to remember even the basic cast-on. Her own unfinished projects lay discarded in a basket, victims of her sudden lack of interest. The yarn felt heavy and cumbersome in her hands.

"That's… that's a really intricate design, Finn," she said, her voice sounding a little too loud in the suddenly quiet room.

Finn, his brow furrowed in concentration, simply grunted in response. Sarah fiddled with the remote, the bright screen a distraction she desperately craved. She was suddenly acutely aware of her own clumsiness.