She coiled the dark red yarn around her aged fingers. She made a loop and started knitting. One, two, three, fifteen loops. Then time to extend it. One, two, three, twenty rows of perfect knitted loops were in place. The old woman knitted fast and steady. Only years of experience could make her knit so well.

She was skilled with the needles. She could do a lot of things with them. She remembered knitting scarfs for her grandchildren, socks for her daughter. She could remember the colors she used to knit the King a long blanket so he can be warm during the chilly nights of October. She remembered like it was yesterday the day she pulled out the eye of one man with her needle, and she could still hear the last breath of the whore she had killed by stabbing her between the ribs, right to the heart.

Oh, she was very skillful with the needles and red was always her favorite color.



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