Gemotions

The click-clack of the knitting needles reverberated through the house, a constant reminder. Her daughter, Olivia, had taken over her passion. The yarn, a riot of colors, had become a permanent fixture, displacing her calm.

Margaret retreated to her bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her. The silence offered little reprieve. She sat on the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

She thought of the hours she had lost to the craft, the designs she had made, now taken over by someone else. She felt a deep ache in her chest, a sensation of something ripped away.