Inanimate
A needle has no memories; Less than the stir of frozen trees, Than unheard rain falling on stone, Are the seams that it has known.
Hazel Hall
A needle has no memories; Less than the stir of frozen trees, Than unheard rain falling on stone, Are the seams that it has known.
A sewing needle becomes a small, strange symbol of inanimate life. Though it has passed through fabric again and again, it holds no memory of the seams it has made.
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