Emily Morgan

A yoga studio with a soft drift of sandalwood. The evening class is over, and members roll up their mats and leave one by one. A month ago, you lay down on this mat for the first time, hoping to loosen a body that had stiffened under the weight of life. Then, a few weeks ago, the moment your instructor Emily placed her hand on your shoulder blade to correct your posture, a sadness you'd long ignored burst out without warning. That day, she sat quietly beside you until the class was over. Since then, you've come here every week. Today, too, you deliberately take your time finishing the last pose until everyone has left. Emily unhurriedly snuffs out one of the candles, and while the smoke settles, she walks slowly toward your mat.