• I was slowly picking a sweater apart this morning. I was sitting in the sunlight with a steak knife and meticulously pulling single strands from their strandlies or, more commonly, strand families. I waved to a family of seagulls as some sort of vague penance for my sin. I noticed that old women tend to put sweaters together rather than taking them apart piece by piece with steak knives. I might learn something from these purple-haired freaks after all.

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