Note the story has been updated with illustrations by the author. Click drawings to enlarge. ;)
My twelve year old daughter loves to write. She keeps a journal where she often puts snippets of stories that pop into her head. Many nights, when I go into her room to kiss her goodnight, I find her furiously writing. Today she wrote a knitting story for me to post on my blog. I hope you enjoy it.
“Which project should I continue today?” sighed Victoria, rummaging through her UFO basket with one hand, her steaming morning coffee in the other. Picking a particularly fuzzy hat from the throng of projects, she plopped herself down and listened to the light Saturday drizzle outside. She started her knitting, her crystal blue eyes staring intently at the needles, and her ears, covered by a fiery mass of hair, missing the sounds below. In the basket full of UFOs next to the soft leather chair, the unmistakable twitter of arguments and anger had broken out.
“I can’t believe she picked Angora, AGAIN!” fumed Clapotis, her wings beating furiously, though she was only lounging on her unfinished scarf counterpart. “Chill, Clapotis. She’ll pick you soon enough.” said Embossed, in a very exasperated tone. Her twin, who was not done growing, like her sister, and was practicing loops in the air, interrupted, “Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Apparently deciding she had to say more, Leaves added, “But really, you look more like a humming bird than a project pixie at the moment. Won’t get picked that way!” in a joking way knowing that project pixies were invisible to humans like Victoria. This time Kiri Shawl cut across the conversation, “Guys, show a bit of sympathy! I haven’t been picked in weeks either.” “They were just having a bit of fun, Kiri. You wouldn’t understand!” retorted Sitcom Chic, defending her friends. As if she had just flown across some invisible line, Sitcom Chic was suddenly bombarded with angry retorts from Kiri, “Oh, I don’t know fun!?!” “Sitcom Bleak the amazing sneak!” This went on for some time. Pixie magic was even used at the peak of the argument at which time, Flower Basket and Sunflower Tam intervened. There were so many wings and needles , for the knitting soon got involved in the fight, that you couldn’t tell which belonged to which pixie. Finally, everything was calmed down and tidied up. But, something was amiss.
The project Pixies searched everywhere in the basket. Flower Basket and Kiri tunneled deep under piles of yarn and UFOs, while Embossed and Leaves, being the best fliers, searched from above, like birds of prey. Everyone they could find helped out in the hunt. At the end of the hour, Clapotis still hadn’t turned up. “This is terrible!” sobbed Kiri, sprawling out on her shawl in exhaustion. Bawling, Sunflower Tam agreed, while moping up her glistening, tear-covered face with the edge of her hat counterpart. She’s probably left the basket and has been eaten by a ferocious flock of wild moths by now! We’ll never see her, or her scarf, again!” As two other pixies flew over to calm them down, Sitcom Chic decided on something. She, Embossed and Leaves flew up to the leather arm of the chair, their thumbnail shaped wings beating harder than ever, to keep up their pinkie sized bodies. They devised a plan as they flew upward to their destination, their knitting project counterparts in tow by magic. Finally they made three graceful landings on the cozy leather arm of the chair.
Waving their kitting projects around in the air they attempted tirelessly to draw Victoria’s attention away from the nearly finished angora hat. Though they failed, they beckoned Angora over, and told her of the tragedy below. “I thought I heard crying, and a search party.” “Well, we need strong magic to do a tangibility spell and your hat is almost finished, like our project counterparts. We need to be seen and heard by Victoria. She’s the only one who Clapotis will believe when we say we want her back.” “Plus, moths are scared of Victoria!” chimed in Leaves, hovering around in circles excitedly. Embossed interrupted, “No sense standing around to chit chat, guys. Let’s get this show on the road.” The four project pixies chanted and concentrated intently, going through all the spell's steps with great precision. Finally they had finished. "Can you see me?” “Well yeah, but we need to know if Victoria can see us, Leaves.”
Victoria stopped her knitting. She had thought she had heard voices, yet no one was home but her. She looked around, scanning for the sound’s source, but could find none. She was about to get up, when something flew up and hovered near her angora hat. “Hi! I’m Angora.” “No, you’re not! This is angora!” Victoria retorted, gesturing at the fuzzy hat she had been working on. “Now you’re getting it!” “What?” “No, no. ANGORA.” “Huh, you’re Angora?” “Yes, let me explain. I am a project pixie, the personality and counterpart of your knitting project. Every project, UFO and FO, has a project pixie to go with it.” She gestured animatedly at this point, directing Victoria’s gaze at her friends. Finally, Victoria spoke, “That’s crazy! Am I turning into a nut job?!” “No, I do believe you are perfectly sane. See.” Angora pulled Victoria’s ear with a jolt. “Okay, so I’m in my right mind. What do you want then?” “We need you to save Clapotis. She ran away with her scarf, and we haven’t seen wings or needles of her in hours. She might’ve been eaten by moths by now. Poor Clapotis!” “Wait, so I have to go out and search for my scarf and er. . .project pixie?” cut in Victoria, still rubbing her blue eyes in disbelief. “Yes. But she’ll only listen to you because she feels neglected.” “Okay then, let’s go.”
“May I ride on your shoulder?” asked Angora, after only a few minutes of searching. “You’re already tired? We’ve only searched the living room!” “Well, I’m only a two inch tall pixie.” “Oh, all right. Hop on.” “Thank you!” said Angora indignantly, hovering onto Victoria’s shoulder. Scanning the hallway they were about to go into, as she waited for the fairy to settle on her perch, Victoria spotted something peculiar. Walking over, she found a piece of yarn, the color and kind she was using for her Clapotis scarf, lying on the ground next to the open basement door. “Maybe she’s down there.” Suggested Angora hopefully. “I wouldn’t take that as a good thing. Moths live down there.” was all she got back as they stepped through the doorway and descended the stairs to the dimly lit, box covered, moth infested room.
A piercing scream rang out around the basement as a beating of many tiny wings grew louder. Victoria and Angora wheeled around in time to see a flash of pink light being ambushed by a large flock of moths. Victoria grabbed the nearest box, her eyes set on the tiny glow. Taking out what she knew to be blocks of cedar, she hurled them across the room, sending moths scattering in many different directions. Using a quality shielding spell, Angora protected Clapotis from the rain of wood. Finally, the disgusting bugs retreated, leaving a very battered Clapotis pixie and Clapotis scarf lying on a box of summer clothing.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Clapotis was bombarded with questions as Angora made her tangible to humans and dressed her wounds. “Well, I’m all right except for these few scrapes, and being a bit messy. I was really unlucky. What happened was, I left the basket while Sitcom Chic and Kiri were having a go at each other. I was already going into the hallway when you started your search for me in the basket. I could hear Embossed and Leaves calling my name. Then, I was flying down the hallway when my scarf got stuck on a door hinge. I couldn’t just leave it, we get sick if we’re separated from our knitting, so I pulled and pulled until the caught yarn snapped in half. I was thrown forcefully into the basement, and landed where I am now. The Clapotis scarf and I were then mobbed by those wretched moths. You know the rest.” Adding the last part, Clapotis calmed down and Victoria took the two projects and their pixies upstairs.
After this episode, nothing strange ever happened to Victoria again, really. The Clapotis scarf was finished, along with all of its friends. Victoria, however, never singled out a project again, and she treated her knitting with much more care. The day when she met the project pixies became a dream-like memory.
As, I said, every UFO has a project pixie, or do they?