The Knitted Lace Shawl
a short, short story
Stella sat quietly knitting in her garden early one autumn morning. The air was deliciously crisp and clear; she sat contentedly enjoying the sounds the world was making as all things great and small came to life on a brand new day. Taking a break now and then, she drew long sips of hot black coffee, savoring the rich bitter taste. With each sip her eyes closed halfway, her head tilted back, and she let out a personal little sigh thinking how perfect was her day … so far.
Her needles slid effortlessly against each other as stitch after stitch made a smooth transition from one needle to the next, growing ever gradually into a wispy lacy creation she could hardly wait to wear.
After thirty minutes or so of contemplative perfection she caught something sweep up toward her out of the corner of her eye. Glancing over she saw the translucent white flowing wings of an unusually large insect come to rest on the lip of a vintage watering can positioned aesthetically next to a large container of soft pink geraniums.
Read the rest of this short story on Kindle …
Copyright © 2006, 2011 J.L. Fleckenstein ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.