~Jennie’s~

“Ouch! For the love of—” I hiss and yank my hand back, shaking my fingers like they’ve personally betrayed me.

That’s the third time tonight.

I stare down at the half-crocheted baby blanket in my lap. It looks like a tangled, uneven spiderweb with commitment issues. Blue yarn, soft and fuzzy, twists awkwardly around the hook. The more I try to fix it, the worse it gets.

But I don’t stop.

Because I promised myself I’d do this.

I’m going to make something with my own two hands. Something soft. Something safe. Something mine.

Even if I bleed through it.

I curl my legs under me on the couch...