Threads on the Sill

I noticed a faint, cool mist tapping against the glass pane. Resting beside the window sill, I found a small basket holding spare embroidery skeins and a discarded piece of woven ribbon. I stood quietly for a few moments, comparing the tight interlocking stitches to the geometric print along my skirt. With steady fingers, I looped a stray mustard thread over a smooth wooden spool to prevent it from tangling further. Everything stayed neat, calm, and in its proper place.