Lina had no idea how long had passed when the hands took up the cloth and held it up in the sunshine, turning it this way and that. She watched the face. Its smile seemed more glowing than ever.
"Beautiful! Perfect!" came a voice. "Fine linen, clean and bright!"
Perfect! The threads seemed to quiver in excitement. They were perfect?
The hands they had grown to love folded the cloth into a neat square and put it unto a sack made of coarser brown cloth. Then they crowded other things in on top of it. Lina was startled. More time in the dark? What was this?
The sack was tied closed and put on something that kept moving and jostling. It was almost like the old rides on carts, but not quite. For one thing, it didn't creak. And it was warm and rather soft, as if it were alive.
The cloth heard another voice, a different, deeper one. "Here, my love, let me help you up."
There was a shuffling and a sense of great upheaval. Lina tried to shift so she could see even a tiny pinch between the coarse threads of the sack. The others asked her what was happening. She wasn't sure, but she rather thought someone had climbed up beside them on - whatever it was they were tied to. The sack seemed crowded by a leg in blue wool cloth. (She found she had a new affinity for cloth of any kind.)
There was an even greater upheaval, and a steady movement began. And never stopped. On and on it went.
To be continued. . .
Repairing the Breach,
Debbonnaire
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