I picked up the last piece and began sliding it through the machine, effortlessly. A sudden desire to pull away fast over took me and I jerked my hand without releasing the pressure on the gas pedal. I looked down, unsure as to why it hurt and why I couldn't move my hand.
A portion of the needle stuck from my finger, the end of it still threaded and attached to the fabric. Panic rose. I swallowed hard, reaching for the shears I doubted I would be able to reach. They simply were too far.
I swallowed again as panic rose more forcefully. Tears brimmed. My phone was also out of reach. Methodically, I used the on-board cutter of the machine. It was dull and the thread pulled mercilessly before finally snapping.
My freedom came at the cost of great pain and the jail break of my panic. Slowly, I crossed the small room and picked up my phone. "John?" I said and then sobbed. "I need you to come home."
*** Daily Writing Practice ***
ouch! I cringed when I got to the part where the need stuck from your finger. I liked how you expressed your shock though :-)
ReplyDeleteI sew. When I came to the end of the second paragraph, my hand clamped firmly on my mouth and I read the rest of the piece holding my breath. Thank you, Heather ... for giving me nightmares tonight! :O)
ReplyDeleteEddie- I felt the pain. Sadly, this story was true beginning to end. One day, I'll write about the urgent care visit.
ReplyDeleteMonica- My best advice: Go slow on the machine. It took me a while before I was willing to sew on it again..... and it was a very small job.
To You Both- Thank you, thank you, thank you for your comments. Even that small bit gives me a lot of support to keep writing. It is greatly appreciated!
I remember you telling me about this incident. I like you phrasing of it and the shock and disbelief was well written. And now I am keeping my sewing machine under wraps for now.
ReplyDelete