The Wicker Trap

I scurried back through the drafty cat flap from the canal, damp and completely ready to collapse into a warm heap! Right beside the dark slate hearth stood a woven willow knitting basket with a giant pair of smooth wooden knitting needles poking out like antennae. Naturally, I lunged forward with total gusto to balance along the curved birch needles—leap, wobble, slip! My clumsy knitted heel caught right in an unravelled skein of thick mustard-yellow wool! Clatter, tumble, roll! The heavy ball bounced across the floorboards like a startled hedgehog, spinning me into a dizzy backward flip. Smack! I landed rump-first straight inside the deep round basket, completely tangled in soft golden loops with both knitting needles crosswise over my lap like a fortress gate! Lofty, help—I came in for a snooze, but now I’m the ball of yarn!