His belly full of dinner, Thor headed to his sewing room, needing the time to simply relax. The scent of the place, clean, pressed fabrics, called to him, promising tranquility and a chance to focus on something positive, something happy, while leaving his worries behind.
After flipping on the lights, he settled in the recliner, and drew his present work in progress over his lap. The material floated to cover him, crinkling up next to the hoop. Thor carefully plucked the needle from its resting spot on the edge of the stretched material and resumed where he’d left off.
His concentration solely on his craft, Thor’s concerns drifted away. The easy rhythm offered solace and respite while accentuating the geographical design in the fabric.
“Pretty.”
Lost in his thoughts, Thor hadn’t heard
