It was another quiet afternoon when the weaver found herself immersed in the making of a belt. As she shifted the wooden cards intertwined with the string, she asked herself who exactly she should be thinking of. The birds chirped merrily outside, filling her with a sense of peace as she continued. The languid afternoon noises were suddenly interrupted by a knocking on her door.
“Come in!” she called out, continuing with her work. She could recognize the knock, and as the door creaked open and closed, she looked over her shoulder to see her friend Lenea.