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Posted by Verdigris on Aug 22, 2011 1:38:51 GMT -6
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May 15, 2013 18:46:44 GMT -6
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It had seemed like a good idea at the time. So innocent. So calming. So arts-and-craftsy. Little had she known as she ran her fingers over the brilliant colours and interesting textures that this could consume her life.
Biting the thread away from the final knot Verdy rolled her shoulders and wriggled back to admire her handiwork. Brilliant, nuclear-waste green mixed with black and assorted variations in a form easily recognisable as ‘knitted’. She grinned and smoothed the blanket out. It flowed deliciously to the floor on both sides and the end of her bed, and it had the added bonus of being totally hand-made. The feathered synthetic fibres tickled gently under her fingers, contrasted against the stability and functionality of the plainer fibres.
She glanced at the clock. Then the calendar. Then outdoors.
Oh.
The time, she was surprised by, but not unduly so. The calendar remained on the page she had last turned over, with a scene from an underwater adventure above the swirling letters that formed “June.” Outside the window, however, was not the green leaves of late spring, early summer. The children who scurried across the lawn wore a layer more than she would have expected, and most disturbing of all, there was a yellowish tinge to the leaves on some of the trees.
Slightly bewildered she moved to the window and pressed her nose against it. The chill of the glass and the closer view of what was most certainly were brilliant orange streaks across the leaves of the tree outside confirmed what she suspected.
She had missed Summer.
Somehow, the days and weeks had slipped away until finally, here she was on the cusp of Fall. She was sure that she had been eating, but on a closer inspection of her memory she discovered that she had, in fact, been moving to and from the dining hall in a wooly-minded haze. Of course she had taken Jack out for walks, but her mind had been clouded by thoughts of the blanket she was diligently creating, stitch by stitch and the weather had passed by unnoticed.
Bother.
At least her blanket was pretty. She moved back to the bed and snuggled under it. She would deal with the problem of the missing Summer later. After a nap.
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