January 26th, 2014
|This story is from our newletters called Pattern Journal which brings a warm-hearted, wholesome story to your inbox to read every month. We’re sharing the most recent story here in the blog. If you enjoy it and would like to subscribe, click here.
This year, Allie resolved to be more sociable. It was hard to put yourself out there, but necessary if you wanted to have a life that was more than your job. She was an Aquarius—friendly, but also private—and cherished weekends when she could sleep late, crochet, and chat on the phone. That was her restorative reward after a killer work-week. But she was tired of being alone. Maybe she needed a little less privacy and a little more friendship.
Wearing her favorite pink sweater and skinny jeans, Allie strolled the few blocks from her apartment to the Java Library. With the comfy seating and alluring bookshelves, the Java Library invited you to relax. She usually spent no more than five minutes there, always satisfied with buying her morning coffee and leaving.
|Zodiac Scarf Variation with Bobbles.To see our other zodiac scarfs click here.|
After buying a cappuccino, she found an empty armchair near the glowing
fireplace. Others sat nearby, absorbed in their laptops—including a man about her age with dark curly hair and glasses. Allie picked up her almost finished scarf from inside the tote Mom had needlepointed. She thought again about how when you worked on a project, it became part of you. This Zodiac scarf looked intricate, with its wedges of subtle color and adorable bobbles, but was really quite easy to figure out. She felt utterly serene as she crocheted and listened to soft background jazz.
“That looks hard,” he said, leaning forward from the opposite sofa. “I’ve been watching what you do. It’s impressive.”
“It’s a scarf,” said Allie, stretching it to display the full effect.
She nodded. “Crochet is kind of my creative outlet.”
“Like writing is for me,” he said. “I’m an office slave Monday through Friday, and a weekend poet.”
Allie’s heart skipped a beat.
“My name’s Doug, by the way.”
“I’m Allie,” she said, smiling.
“I’m going to get a refill,” Doug said. “Should I get one for you?”
She held out her cup. He took it. And so it began.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
A story by Selma Moss-Ward.
Selma Moss-Ward is a freelance writer who combines her love of writing and of knitting in her columns, stories, and blog posts. Selma is also an active classical musician and the caretaker of five wonderful pets. She lives with them and her husband in Rhode Island.