Gemotions

The needle clicked through the fabric, each stitch a small, satisfying act. Her fingers danced across the cloth, creating intricate patterns. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the dust motes that floated in the air. A forceful rap on her door made her jump. It was Mr. Miller, his face a mask of frustration. "The hammering! The infernal hammering! It's giving me a headache!" She gently put down her project. “Oh, Mr. Miller, I do apologise. I’m almost finished."