0 March Secret Agent #8

TITLE: Straw. Salt. Gold.
GENRE: YA Fantasy

Crack.

A sickening noise echoes through the flat, breaking my concentration. The wool I spin snaps, as the spinning wheel flies forward, and I topple over. Yarn tangles and splits in the bobbins, catching around the spokes of the wheel. I brush the dust from my skirt and relight my oil lamp to better survey the damage.

My heart sinks.

The spinning wheel, wedged into the hatbox of a room, is cracked in two, with its support beam split in half. All of its parts; crank, flyer, and treadle, list precariously. The soft merino wool my older brother Braun traded for, hoping to sell my handiwork for cabbages and bread, is a tangled mess. At best it will need to be re-carded.

A half days work gone in a pop and a flash.

The wheel must be fixable. It must be. As gently as I can, I lay the great wheel on its side, wishing for a miracle. I’ve patched my wheel before, held it together with beeswax, tar, and prayers. The fixes were crude, but they worked when we needed them. This time, to keep the rot from spreading the support beam will need to be removed and replaced.

In my heart, I hear Braun sighing; “Oh Rumilla, another expense?”

Wiping the grime on my skirt, I pick up my wrench from the toolbox. I’ll take in the part to salvage, instead of dwelling on the destroyed fiber.

Just another piece of ill-luck, in two years overflowing with ill-luck.