Sarah always ate with a tempting *smack!*smack!* sound that she makes with her mouth. The delicious sound of food being savoured with air could fill a room with delight, the way she ate. So, when I was finally alone with her in the stairwells at school, only when everyone else of significance had already departed, I fed her some chocolate, just to hear that delectable sound.

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*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.

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