Her eyes were closed, she realized, and she kept them shut, staring at the absolute blackness in front of her. It was so calm here, so peaceful, and she didn’t want to leave this spot. The rumble grew, though, thrashing around between her ears now with a determined force. Molly’s eyes flew open. She’d been snoring. Molly blinked a few times, then turned her head to the right to see the other women in the class coming out of corpse pose. Without moving, she watched the yoga instructor across the room give her a serene smile before she touched her palms together in front of her bird-frail chest. The lithe woman bowed to the group facing her. “Namaste,” the teacher said. Her soft voice floated across the room and over the faint rumbles still resonating in Molly’s head. The other students were sitting up now, legs crossed with measured grace in front of them, mirroring the instructor’s movements. “Namaste,”
What do You think about All The Difference (2015)?
