i have enjoyed this challenge thus far and i’m so sad this is the last week 🥺 my story came out short this week… but i don’t really see where i could add more words…

Feedback/critique (is that the same thing? lol) would be appreciated!

Amelia Capellan || Team Otter || The Sweater

Under the fence, gather the sheep, back we come, off we leap. 

I go through the rhyme as I pull my knitting needle through the last loop in the row, stepping back to admire my work. The sweater is almost finished. Only a few more rows to go.

Looking closer, I realize—the last loop I did isn’t done right. Angry with myself, I yank the yarn to undo it—sighing as half of the first row unravels before my eyes. 

It’s unraveling. Just like my life has been.

I give the string another tug. 

First, I get diagnosed with anxiety.

I pull it again.

Then the guy of my dreams decides we’re not meant to be, just because a prettier girl caught his eye.

A pang of hurt mixes with the fury, and I almost let a tear drop to the ground on the next try.

The only job I’ve kept steady in these five years of “adulting” decides they’re letting go of half the staff.

My hands are boosted with extra energy as I picture the new boss’ pretentious, prissy, perfect face when she gave me the news that they were “reducing to the needed staff.” How am I supposed to pay for rent in such an expensive city as New York?

My mother, my sweet mother, is facing all these health problems, and 

1’m not even close enough to help her.

My heart is filled with pain again as I imagine my mom’s skinny, pale face from the last time we video called. The fun-loving, energy-filled woman I knew is fading.

And I haven’t found a nice, decent, supportive church in this huge city. All my friends are back home in Ohio.

The loneliness blends with all the pain and fury seeping into my heart, and I let it out in one last strong tug.

How did my therapist think this would help me calm down? All it’s doing is making me more stressed and angry and…

I take a deep breath, trying to clear my mind from the fog of fury. 

“In through the nose, out through the mouth,” I can almost hear my therapist Dahlia say in her soothing tone. “In, out.”

I follow her advice, breathing in . . . and out.

I look down to my lap, preparing to pick up my needles and knit the remaining anger into the yarn. But instead, I stifle a sob.

The whole sweater is now a puddle of tangled yarn.

This is a portion of a much larger narrative, but it works as a standalone short story. Unfortunately some detail had to be cut out due to word count. Hopefully it isn't too confusing.

Any critique or suggestions would be appreciated!

The Thread of Time

By Lucas Helm

“So at last the day of reckoning has come.” A twisted half-skeletal man cackled loudly, as he struggled to stand.

“Your reign of terror at last at an end.” Luke unsheathed a royally adorned blade, one that reflected the light around it in a dazzling display.

Karalyn put a hand on Luke’s shoulder, “Know that whatever happens next, we are with you.”

“Forever and always.” Jeremiah put a hand over his heart.

“We are family.” Lisa smiled.

“You cannot destroy me,” the skeletal creature said, “I hold all of time in my hands. I have seen the past, present, and future. You all know what it will cost you to strike me down.”

“Your tyranny cannot be allowed to continue,” Luke charged in and slashed at the creature with his blade. Light flowed freely from his companions, pouring itself into the sword. Though the blade did not leave a mark upon the creature, its eyes lit up with the light that pierced its body.

The creature looked up at Luke as it fell backwards, then spoke its final words in a slow crackling voice.

“You have no idea what you have done.”

In a sudden flash of light, the world around the companions faded. Nothing remained except for the four humans, a sea of white void, and a halfway unraveled spool of thread that lay where the creature had fallen.

“Is it finally over?” Karalyn gasped.

Jeremiah stepped in to pick up the thread. “After all this time, we’re finally free.”

“That thing was right, you know,” Luke said.

“About what?” Karalyn spun on her heel to face Luke with a concerned expression etched into her face.

“That we truly had no idea what we have done.”

“What do you mean?” Lisa marched towards the group. “The Parrallellian is dead, and his reign of tyranny is over! We finally don’t have to look over our shoulders any more. We can finally stop worrying that that thing will use its ability to rewrite time as it pleases.”

Jeremiah handed the thread to Luke.

Peering at the unraveled string, Luke sighed and spoke again. “But as long as this exists, the thread of time, another will arise just like the Parrallellian. Someone else will claim these threads as their own and will devote themselves to control over time. No mortal should have that kind of power.”

“Do you realize what will happen if you destroy the spool?” Karalyn’s face went pale.

“Yes.” Luke had tears in his eyes.

“Do we really have any other choice?” Jeremiah asked.

“There has to be another way!” Lisa exclaimed.

“What do you suggest then?”

“I don’t know. Anything.” Lisa spoke frantically. “We can hide it somewhere, or place it under guard or maybe-”

Jeremiah interrupted her, “Nothing we do can keep it out of the hands of someone who will use it for evil. Even if we throw it into the middle of a vast ocean, someday it will wash ashore and this whole nightmare will be able to repeat itself. The only way that anyone will be safe from the threat of the Parrallellian,” Jeremiah pointed a finger at the thread, “Is to destroy that spool.”

Luke stared intently at the thread, then looked up to his family with a somber expression. “If we destroy the spool and allow the thread to unravel freely, everything will return to the way it was. Before the thread was found, and before the Parrallellian appointed himself emperor over the multiverse, everything will be reset. Every broken family, every home destroyed by this tyranny, and every sorrowful moment created by this evil will be erased. But, that also means that all the good that has come out of this evil will too become nothing more than a distant memory. This family will be forgotten, as if we never met at all. The sacrificial love we have for one another will fade and only be remembered in vague dreams and memories. Are we sure that we want to go through with this?”

“Yes.” Karalyn forced a smile. “It would be selfish to allow others to suffer because we want our family to stay together.”

“I agree.” A single tear trickled down Jeremiah's face. “I trust that no matter what happens, God will continue the work that he began. Someway and somehow, we need to trust him.”

Lisa threw her arms around Jeremiah. “I’m going to miss you all so much. I cannot bear the thought that I may forget what happened here.”

“Luke, can we talk for a moment?” Karalyn asked.

Luke handed the thread to Jeremiah and walked a few steps away with Karalyn. “What is it?”

“This is the only right choice.” Karalyn took his hand in hers. “This is the only way we will be able to live the life we’ve always wanted. No more fighting, no more running, no more warrior or vagabond lifestyle. We can have a normal life together as we always wanted.”

“But what if we never see each other again?”

“What the Lord wills shall be done. But I trust that he will bring us together once again.”

“Yes.” Luke failed to stop the tears from flowing as he stepped back towards his family.

The four of them embraced one last time. They wept as they knew they may never meet again on this side of eternity, but in their hearts they felt a profound peace in knowing that God’s hand was over everything.

They then stepped away as Luke raised his blade and brought it down upon the spool. As a bright light flooded their senses, one last sentiment echoed in each of their minds.

Love the story, and never give up…

Unraveling with purpose

A tall pile of old sweaters sat on the ladder-back chair next to her rocker.

Lisa reached over, taking the top sweater, laying it on her lap.  She carefully examined the seams and the cable knitted waistband.  She considered where to start.

Lisa had recently learned how to crochet.  Making Granny Squares became a passion. These little squares became Afghans of various sizes.  She had thought it would be an inexpensive hobby and past time.   Originally, she was right.  Several friends dug through forgotten bins, boxes, and bags finding skeins of yarn.

Lisa built quite a stash of multicolored yarns from these donations.  Her greatest difficulty was sorting the types of yarn.  She was given rayon, nylon, wool, wool blends, and a large skein of something else.  It almost felt like rayon, almost felt like nylon, almost something else unidentifiable.

At first, when she crocheted her first several Afghans, she wasn’t careful about the type of yarn used.  What she found out, was when wool yarn squares are mixed with nylon yarn squares, the Afghan didn’t wash well.  Wool has a tendency to shrink and shift, making the Afghan not lay right.

Lisa’s obsession with crocheting Granny Squares soon dwindled the yarn stash.  When she went to purchase yarn…. Oh My!... The price sticker shock!  Her free Afghans became suddenly expensive.

As a way to fill her yarn stash, Lisa went to garage sales, second hand stores, and flea markets.  She also put word out that she was looking for more yarn, any type of fiber or color not a problem.

One day, Lisa, at a garage sale, saw a stack of older outdated knitted sweaters.  They were the colors, red, green, yellow, blue, black, and tan. There had to be at least twenty sweaters.  The price of each sweater was almost free.  When Lisa went to pay for them, the man running the garage sale gave them to her for free.

Lisa took her treasures home, placing them on the ladder-back chair. 

Now, Lisa cut a knot on the end of the sweater.  She pulled the yarn thread end carefully.  The sweater started to unravel.  Lisa pulled more on the sweater, then started making a ball.

When a section of the sweater was completely unraveled and wound into a ball, she tied a knot and unraveled another section.

Sweater after sweater, she meticulously unraveled the yarn and wound it into its own ball.  Before long, brightly colored balls filled a basket.  She had red, blue, black, white, yellow, green, and tan yarn balls wound into neat cantaloupe sized balls.

With a glad heart, Lisa picked up a yellow ball and began crocheting a Granny Square.  She knew it would not be long before she would have her next beautiful, free Granny Square Afghan.

Just Another Thursday

Though she was tired, Jen rolled out of bed at the sound of the alarm. The dog followed her and flopped onto the bathroom mat, taking up most of the room. She stared at herself in the mirror, today’s tasks running through her head, wishing she could go back to bed.

“Morning,” her husband said, stepping over the dog to get to her. “You don’t look awake yet.”

“I was up late trying to get those reports done for work,” she said.

He wrapped his arms around her. “I thought the idea was to do that while the kids were at school.”

“It was, but I haven’t had time to get them done.” She leaned her head on his shoulder.

But she couldn’t stay. Time wouldn’t stop. She began her morning routine which included getting three cranky kids up and ready for school.

She was finishing their lunches when the youngest pulled on her pant leg.

“Mommy, I don’t feel good.” Then, he threw up all over the kitchen floor.

“Tara, bring me the sand bucket,” she told the oldest. “Chrissy, lock the dog in the bathroom.” Chrissy held her nose with one hand and the dog collar with the other. Jen knelt to clean up Thad and wipe his tears.

“A bit of a temperature,” she told him. “No school for you today.”

“But we’re having cupcakes for Timmy’s birthday,” he whined.

“Maybe they’ll save you one. Let’s go change shirts.”

They were late getting to the elementary school, so Jen had to sign Chrissy in. The middle school started later, and they were just in time. Tara huffed about not getting to talk with her friends. Habit sent Jen toward the preschool before remembering she didn’t need to. Thad was asleep. Checking the gas guage, she decided she should fill up.

The dog greeted them at the door. He’d been in the kitchen. She couldn’t blame Chrissy. The dog was an escape artist.

By the time she’d put Thad back to bed, cleaned the kitchen and the dog, and started the laundry, it was time for her weekly meeting with the boss. She dropped in front of her computer, hoping her hair didn’t look too much of a mess, and clicked the link to connect.

Error. No internet. She groaned. Last week, the neighbor’s cat had gotten into the house and the dog nearly bowled her over chasing him. The week before, the kids had been out of school and were yelling in the background. The week before that she’d had to reschedule because of an event at school. She called the office, and her boss pretty much told her to have the reports in by the end of the day or else.

She called the internet service. It was a known outage. They should have service back soon.

Unable to prepare reports without internet, she checked on Thad and started on housework that had been put off way too long. When Thad woke, he was feeling better and wanted food. Realizing she’d missed breakfast, they sat down to an early lunch.

The day was getting away when Jen finally sat down to work on her reports. Thad was on the floor playing with his train set. The dog ran in with a ball, wanting to play, knocking over Thad’s train. The ball was a ball of yarn Jen had been planning on using to teach Chrissy to crochet.

To the dog, it was a great game. Thad giggled as yarn unraveled all around the house, wrapping around table and chair legs. In the midst of this, an alarm went off telling Jen it was time to pick up Thad at school. Since he was already home, she tossed the phone on the couch and picked up the small table the dog had knocked over. She gave up on the yarn.

She hadn’t gotten much more done when she looked at the clock and realized it was past time to pick up Chrissy. The phone with the alarm was buried under the couch cushions. She and Thad rushed out the door. Chrissy stood on the sidewalk with her teacher, arms crossed and lips pursed.

They were at the middle school before Jen remembered Tara had a club meeting after school. Rather than make another trip, they waited on the school playground.

At home, Tara admitted to having a project she had forgotten. It was due tomorrow, and they had no posterboard. Jen told her to finish everything else and they’d see what they could do.

After settling everyone down, Jen closed herself in the bathroom. She hoped she wasn’t coming down with whatever Thad had. Her temperature was normal. Seeing the calendar on the wall, she realized her period was two weeks late. How had she not noticed? She was on birth control, so it was probably just stress. To be sure, she dug out a test. Before the results appeared, the kids were yelling in the other room. She settled the fight over the last cookie by eating it herself.

By the time her husband got home, Jen was in the recliner, Thad asleep on top of her. The dog chewed on what was left of the ball of yarn. After hearing about her day, he offered to take Tara to get posterboard and pizza. It sounded like a wonderful idea.

He went to change out of his work clothes and clean up. When he came back, he sat on the couch and looked at Jen.

“Do you want to talk about what was in the bathroom?” he asked.

“What now?” she asked, thinking the dog must have done something or she’d left some of Thad’s soiled clothes.

“The test?”

“Oh, I forgot about that. I didn’t even see the results. It was negative, right?”

He smiled. “Maybe we should think about putting this job thing off for a few more years.”

“But we need the money.”

He shrugged. “We’ll figure something out.”

Gina stood barefoot and alone in her tiny kitchen, cradling a mug of coffee that had long gone cold and staring at the set table with its uneaten breakfast. Her husband, Ben, had left for work early that morning without a kiss goodbye. His face was like granite and he didn't look back, shutting the door with a firmness that wasn't a slam, but reverberated nonetheless.

She pondered the stillness. What had once been laughter became petty disagreements, the disagreements became shouting, then the shouting to a deafening silence.

She couldn't quite pinpoint when her marriage began to fall apart, only that over time they had become virtual strangers beneath the same roof. Their texts were once flirty and constant now were mundane, or nonexistent all together. Ben started working late. She would find any reason to avoid him whenever he was present. Calls went unanswered. Money ghosted their account. Small inconveniences were nuclear disasters.

Gina wanted to fix it, but wasn't sure how at this point. Ben refused to join her in marriage counseling, stating that no quack needed to know their business. She didn't have to nag him so much. He could have cut back on his drinking. She could've...He could've...

She snapped herself out of it, pouring the coffee down the sink drain. A white envelope glared at her from the counter top where she had deposited it, feeling numb. It was addressed to her, the return address some big shot Attorney-at-Law. She gathered up the breakfast dishes, scraping off the dried scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast before running the sink full of the hottest soapy water she could stand.

Taking off her tight wedding band, she placed it on the windowsill as she always did.

As she scrubbed the plates and mug in the steaming water, she breathed the first sigh of relief that she had in years.