Handsewn

Purple pen, green pen, teal pen, pink. Bernie on a yellow post-its needs colour to brighten up a certain sleep-deprived Bernard. Rummage rummage rummage. Out comes the finished up pens. Out comes the pencil lead fillings. Out comes a green pencil. Wait I don’t have a green clicky pencil. Whose clicky pencil is this? Must be a fugitive. Out out out from this little sack.

Inside out. Expansionary monetary policy is weakened with a fixed exchange rate. Uh huh. Gold glitter flowers softly worn in, sleeping on the inside out of a deep, deep pink pouch. It’s old but I can never seem to part with gifts until they fall apart. Hey a 5 cent coin!

Expansionary fiscal policy is weakened with a floating exchange rate policy. I run my fingers along the zip and marvelled at its invisible ingenuity. I picked out the zip and I picked out the fabric and I picked out the thread. But you sewed it with your magic fingers. “

You better behave or I’ll IMF you”. Finger tips along the innards of a pencil case, along its stitches. It was handsewn, sturdily double stitched and clumsy. Fingers tracing wondering where your machine stitch would begin. It didn’t

Wait.

You stitched all of this by hand? Are you crazy? You have a sewing machine… Don’t you have a sewing machine? I thought you have a sewing machine! My memory is pretty bad. But hey three years on and you really made my day. Pacific Ocean won’t let me get any closer to you. So it’ll be I less than three you lots and lots all the way from here. Shall resurface soon and bug you about your resplendent red hair. I promise!

With all the e-love I can muster,

knead.uh

p.s. is someone missing a green clicky pencil?