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Rated: ASR · Fiction · Dark · #2219993
Writer's Cramp - 4-24-20 - W/C 638



“I am Justin Bates and we are here today in the Northside with Amy Smith. So Amy, How long have you been doing this? And how much yarn is in this project?” I whispered to the camera man to get a tighter shot.

Amy looked behind her. The room was full of it. There was no end he could see. Where was the beginning? Who knew.

“Well, I started this scarf about five years ago. It was supposed to be therapy after my surgery, you see. It was supposed to help me think again. And, you know, one thing led to another, and I just never stopped. I just keep tying new yarn on when I come to the end. So I have no idea where the beginning is. It’s somewhere in the room here. I just don’t know where.” Amy took up the crochet hook and started hooking again. Her fingers flew through the yarn. Hook, hook, hook. The scarf grew in length as we watched. A cat came and rubbed against my leg. Then it disappeared into the coils of yarn behind Amy.

“I see the cat likes your project.”

“Oh yes. I have lots of cats. They love to get lost in the yarn. They have tunnels in there.”
Amy was not even looking as she worked. I swear I could see smoke and fire coming off her hook she was working so fast.

“How many cats do you have?”

“Well, that’s hard to say. I started off with two. I thought they were girls. But you know, I was wrong. They weren’t. They had babies and then there were five and now, who knows? Maybe there are ten or more? Hard to tell.”

The camera man focused on the cat. And then he found more cats to focus on. This was going to be a great piece.

“Amy, you know we came here to talk about the state of your home. It seems that the city is asking you to leave. They think it is unsafe for you with all the cats and all this yarn.” I found a chair nearby and sat down.

The scarf was coiling around Amy as we watched. It had grown around her as we were filming. I never knew anyone could crochet so fast. It had engulfed her legs, her arms, the chair and was up to her face. I stood and backed away, afraid that the scarf was taking on a life of its own. Perhaps Amy had some supernatural power over this yarn with her hook.

“So, Justin, you say the city is able to kick me out of my own home just because I like to make things out of yarn? And because I love my cats?” She was working now at a blinding speed. The scarf coiled up around her face and now was bending toward the camera man and myself.

“Well, um yes, that is what I said. But, now, let’s not be hasty about this. I am sure we can talk this out. Let’s be reasonable, Amy.”

The camera man and I looked at each other with fear in our eyes.

The scarf continued to grow as Amy hooked and suddenly the scarf looped around and choked the camera man, engulfed his camera and then the scarf doubled back around to choke the reporter. Then the scarf wrapped their bodies tightly like mummies.

“There, now I am done. Let me just cut this yarn and tie off the ends. Okay kitties. Now we are safe and sound. Time to call this project finished.”

WC 638




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