Once upon a time I
learnt knitting. And I knitted and
knitted till I could see it in my sleep.
The needles went in and out and the wool went all around. Loop it over and pull it through. A stitch was made and then it was time for
the next.
I knitted a row,
and then turned it around. I knitted the
next row, and then turned it around again.
And I kept going on and on, depending on my mood.
One day, I just
knitted. And I knitted and knitted a woolen
scarf. And it kept going on and on. Really long.
And I knitted into it so much.
All of it looked blue, because that was the colour of the wool.
It grew so long,
that I rolled it into a ball. Now what
was I to do with it? I carried it
around. We went visiting my grandmother
and while we were there, my mother fell down and hurt her knee. I thought I could wrap it up with my scarf,
but it was not suited to that.
After some days it
was time to come back, and we did, but the scarf got left behind…
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