*click* *click*

The sound of her knitting needles were the only sound on a long, dark winter’s day. She was knitting something for me, again, I think.

*click*

I, too, wanted to learn how to knit. It seemed so easy whenever Lelena did it. Her fingers would gently touch the yarn to the tips of the needles, and then again, and again, until the row was done, and she would flip the entire thing over and repeat.

“It’s very easy,” she always said to me. “I’ll teach you,” but she never did.

*click* *click*

“Hey, Lele, can I learn how to knit today?”

*click* “Hmm, maybe after I finish this.”

“Will it take a long time?”

“Not very long, I think,…It’s almost done.” *click* *click*

I believed her. I always believed her, Lelena, maybe because she’s so trustworthy. I remember one day, long time ago, I asked her to help me build a kite, because I very much wanted to know what it was like to fly a kite in the summer that year. We had no idea what we were doing, so we ended up breaking the thing. I gave up on it, of course. But Lele bought a new one for me, and built it herself, so it was perfect. It flew perfectly. The string was weak, so it kept breaking off, but it flew perfectly.

*click*

“Do you have extra knitting needles I can use?”

“Hmm, there’s some in that drawer there. The blue ones should be good.” *click* *click*

I pulled out the drawer and found a long pair of knitting needles, rubber banded together. I took them out and closed the drawer, the sound of wood sliding across wood as it closed. They were made of metal, cool to the touch. I noticed the number 8 on the knob at the end of each one.

*click*

“What does this eight mean?”

“It’s the size.”

Of the needles, I guess. I put them on my lap and watched her again.

*click* *click*

*click*

It was a very long scarf, red, with holes in it. I could see her fuzzy black sweater through the holes, barely moving as her needles swung in light arcs around her elbows. I had no idea what was going on, but it seemed kind of funny to me at the moment.

“What are you laughing at?” *click* *click*

“Nothing,” I said.

“If you’re laughing at me, I won’t teach you anymore.” *click*

I kept quiet, and just watched her again, hoping to learn from watching.

*click* *click*

She didn’t finish her scarf that day, so she wasn’t able to teach me, that day. I didn’t mind. It was nice, sitting beside her and watching her knit. I could have watched her knit forever. It was peaceful, I think.

*click*

*click* *click*

I wished I could watch her knit forever.

*click*

*click* *click*

*click*