I can't see my hands, but I can feel the sticks between my fingers, and the yarn between them. My motions are memories, left over from too much practice and not enough social interaction.
Scrape. Click. Rustle. SHIT!
Thank whatever god invented knitting for circular needles.
It's quiet, and it almost feels like I'm breaking the rules, sneaking about in a dark house. I hope I'm doing this right. I'll see in the morning.
Scrape. Click. Rustle. Thump, roll. CRAP!
The harder I pull, the more it unravels. Oh well. I'll just knit until the slack goes away.
My fingers are cold. I should probably give it a rest soon.
...Nah, let's keep going, just a few more stitches, just a few more rows. I'm nearly done, there's no use in stopping now.
The lights come on. I blink. Again.
It's not as fun with the lights on.
Another forgotten project is discarded.
