A long time passed. The rod rolled and stopped, rolled and stopped. The new threads shifted against each other. Lina had plenty of time to think over all that had happened to her. This waiting was almost like the time she had spent underwater, or drying in the field. In fact, aside from the terrible beating, it seemed most of her life had been made up of waiting. At least this time was not as terrible as some of the others.
The threads began to whisper together again. After awhile, it was almost as cozy as the time on the dark shelf. Lina learned that - according to some of the fibers, who had overheard it from someone else - they were now linen thread, and that linen thread was the strongest and most useful thread of all.
"We'll be made into something beautiful," they whispered.
"Will be?" demanded Lina. "We already have been. At least we were beautiful! Now, I'm not so sure."
"There's more, " came the reply. "They're not finished with us yet."
More? Lina wasn't sure she could handle any more.
To be continued. . .
Repairing the Breach,
Debbonnaire
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