The needles flashed in the sun - click click click. The old woman was knitting a sweater, a very small sweater it seemed. Click click click. She deployed the motions with precision and vigour. Click click click. The man noted the red wool coming out of the shiny white plastic bag to her right. He desperately wanted to look into the bag to see how much of the red wool was left. A tear escapes his eye as an eyelash stabs him. He squints to see. Was the wool almost gone? Was there enough left? Would there be enough to…

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