I take to hand my needle and thread, taking up the challenge issued by
Lavinia, to wow and dazzle her with my sewing skills in order to win a
tailoring license.

Long I sit and ponder, do I make a jacket? There don't seem to be many
nice jackets for women. Or perhaps a nice pair of shoes, those can be
hard to find. A ribbon then? Little space for endless detail. Or a
corset?

Time flies when you're wearing thimbles...

In and out weave needle and thread, criss-crossing and hissing softly
through the cloth like
snakes
s
s
slithering
softly
through
the
unde
r
htworg
Then the half fabricated piece is relegated to the ever growing pile of
cloth that will never be real laundry, only a faint impression of it.

On the last day the sun sinks as does my head, crumpled and torn pages
from my journal scribbled with designs, sketches, measurements,
patterns, materials, colours, ideas litter my desk. The sun falls below
the window pane, so low that my head can't follow so it remains on my
desk, amid the papers.

I wake up with a start, deadline's up and all I have are scribbles and
ideas, nothing concrete yet, I'm not even sure what to do. Hastily my
trusty thimble, that little battle helmet for my thumb, my weapons of
needle and thread and start my assault on a fresh piece of cloth.
When evening falls I pray I'm not too late and try to write a little
note while fatigue and nerves drain literacy from my fingers.



\
I tuck the hastily scribbled note to \
a sleeve with a safety pin. (_____)

+---------------------------+
| Deer Lavnia, |
| |
| Im soory I could not make |
| dis ferry pritty. I hope |
| youll lIke it dough. |
| |
| Alasheera <3 |
| |
+---------------------------+

Stitched unevenly across the front of the crudely sewn t-shirt is the
text:

LaVinia heLd a ClotheS dEsigNing coNtest,
And all i mAde was this loUsy T-shIrt.


Penned by my hand on the 11th of Lupar, in the year 535 AF.