There was a soft clattering to the knitting needles as if they were having their own conversation with the wool.
The knitting needles were always ready by the hearth with a generous basked of wool and Carmella's latest project.
The knitting needles were their own paradox, the slender lifeless grey that brought such warmth to so many lives.
Those knitting needles were nothing at all until there were in my hands, then we became a machine together for the purpose of making warm woollens.
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