George
It wasn't often that George was at home; rarer still was it that he had time to sit and just exist. Doing so inevitably left him antsy and anxious, eager to be doing something rather than just sitting. When he was home alone, he was like a powder keg, ready to explore.
When he was young, his ma had put him to work when he got like this, insisting that it would do him good. At first she would send him to market to fetch some eggs, or ask him to chop some firewood, or any number of inane household tasks. But then, one day, she taught him to crochet. And then she taught him to knit. And then she taught him to embroider. Very few people knew this about George; after all, he had a reputation to uphold. How was one to make an impression as a master thief if one was simultaneously holding a pair of knitting needles? But even now, he continued to return to it, finding the repetitive motions and the ability to create relaxing.
And so it was that, on this fine, sunny afternoon, he sat at home with a particularly complex pattern, completely at ease and focused on his work.
When he was young, his ma had put him to work when he got like this, insisting that it would do him good. At first she would send him to market to fetch some eggs, or ask him to chop some firewood, or any number of inane household tasks. But then, one day, she taught him to crochet. And then she taught him to knit. And then she taught him to embroider. Very few people knew this about George; after all, he had a reputation to uphold. How was one to make an impression as a master thief if one was simultaneously holding a pair of knitting needles? But even now, he continued to return to it, finding the repetitive motions and the ability to create relaxing.
And so it was that, on this fine, sunny afternoon, he sat at home with a particularly complex pattern, completely at ease and focused on his work.
