7: Knitting
When I get home there’s a girl sitting in my room. In the middle of the floor, feverishly knitting. She doesn’t notice me. She’s so caught up with her work. I ignore her as well. “The best thing is to ignore it,” my friend used to say. “and it will eventually go away.” I wonder what he is doing these days. I haven’t seen him since I moved away from the old country. He used to take my hand and gently say “No.” when I would be throwing paper out the window again. He never liked me doing that. Throwing it on the fire was okay, but not out the window. I always wondered why…
I tear a piece of paper from a drawing of an eye, and write as best I can:
WHERE YOU AT NOW
I want to put in a question-mark, but can’t remember which way it turns. So I leave it out.
I look up at the girl, but she doesn’t seem to notice me. I start ignoring her again. It doesn’t seem to work. I go to bed, but the sound of her energetic knitting keeps me awake!
I wake up, realising that I’d just fallen asleep. I am a bit startled by this discovery. Until I realise that the crying of the knitting-pins has ceased. I turn on the light, and find the girl fast asleep in the corner. Her newly knitted blanket tucked around her.
