Of women and needles

„We‘re angry with the universe, again?“

It was a warm day at the end of July, and Layla was combing my hair.

„I loved being alive“, I answered. „I loved being alive enough to hate existing right now.“

Layla had picked a red lace top for me to wear. I had decided to combine it with a long, white skirt, and a jeans shirt as a jacket.

I was really leaving the house, today.

„So, we‘re angry with the universe, again“, was Layla‘s conclusion. „Angry enough to damage ourselves, apparently.“

„Hey, I really think today could be nice, at least“, I protested.

„Not what I meant.“

I bit my lips.

Yes, today I was leaving the house, and that for the first time in a long while not just to stand alone on a field. No, I had to catch a bus and meet someone in the city.

I had not been there in months.

It was weird. It felt as if some things were moving on, as if the world was still turning.

Was that the only reason why I did this? To prove to myself that my life was going on? That some things were still to come?

I hoped not.

But I was not sure about anything, when I entered the bus with one of my self made masks on, that actually fit too tight for this warm weather and always left me a little out of breath. Not that I wanted to complain about having to wear them for now. I just regretted my decision to pick this particular one. I liked it that finally I had a good reason to keep my bag on the seat next to me, and keep other people away, but on second thought, it made me feel sick.

And what can I say? Meeting someone who within all this chaos was still in the right mood for dating was closer to the damaging that Layla had been talking about than anything else.

I was lucky to have my witch giggling and whispering somewhere within my head.

Otherwise I would have just drowned myself in sanitizer, I think.

But my witch was with me.

My witch was with me, when the man having a distanced beer with me kept on talking about his ex girlfriend, and when he called her a poor girl for not having a husband and children while being far in her thirties. Layla was giggling inside of my head when he complained about women aging at all. „What am I supposed to do with them? I can‘t adore them. I could pick up a needle and learn knitting with them.“ And when he laughed, Layla and I decided to leave.

„Men have always been scared of women having needles“, Layla would later say, when we were sitting next to my open window and were breathing in the summer night. „You need needles to work serious curses, you can make them clink sweet enough to summon the devil – but most importantly: where women are, there are always needles, because someone has to sew your shirts and patch your socks.“
Now, I laughed.

I was knitting completely voluntarily. I had began a scarf in my favorite shade of brown a year ago, and wanted to finish it before winter.

„He wants a pretty girl for something nice“, I said after a while. „I am not up for something nice.“
I was thoughtful. „Some time ago, I would have been. But not anymore …“

„What are you up to?“, my witch asked.

I shook my head. „I just want things back.“

„Yes, we‘ve had that already.“ Layla observed me for a while. „I‘m glad those needles are made off wood.“ Before I could ask her about this, she said: „Things that are worth more than wining about aging, and cursing women with needles will come back.“

„Really?“

„Do your thoughts allow anything else?“

I smiled, again. „No.“

„It‘s a tragedy what kind of people we sometimes let close, to survive disaster“, Layla continued, and I thought there might be another witching tale hiding in this.

„You mean, what people are able to do to themselves to not survive disaster alone?“, I added and Layla nodded.

„That, too.“

But tonight, there was no other witching tale. There was just the summer night, and me knitting my scarf as a promise for winter to return. Oh, and there were these thoughts about not being up for the nice things. Not being his next pretty girl that he could pitty in a few years.

There was a lot of hoping for other things to really have been good enough to come back.