Outlanders

Chapter 4: Thimbles and threads

ABIDA

LUBDENSTADT

OLD REPUBLIC

When I get to the fifth floor I turn left, following the corridor to Kathrin's apartment. Weak sunlight streams in the hallway through the windows on either end, but other than that there is no light. Nobody wants to waste our gas rations during the day, so the gas lamps are used at night and only when absolutely necessary.

I reach Kathrin's door, covered in pale blue paint chipping at the edges, and knock three times. When I hear no movement from the interior of the apartment I take out my spare key and let myself in. Kathrin is asleep in her rocking chair, a work in progress on her lap. Her small bed is neatly made in the corner, showcasing her own embroidery on the pillowcases- blue on white, in a swirling, floral design. I enter and slowly remove the half-finished quilt from her hands, making sure there are no needles left on her lap to prick her. I realize her prized silver thimble is not on her index finger, nor on the working table at her side. It must have fallen off when she fell asleep; I get on my hands and knees as quietly as possible and begin to search the floor for it. Kathrin would be heartbroken if she lost it.

The wood flooring is clean, probably swept just this morning if I know Kathrin. Her apartment is always tidy. I think she's a proud woman, despite everything. I have never seen her apartment out of order just as I have never seen her without lipstick. Even now, sleeping, I see the thin red line of it on her lips.

I see a glint underneath the working table and move toward it- and wince as I hear a sudden intake of breath –

I look up and there she is, looking at me with her grey eyes. She has a mocking half-smile on her face, as if to ask me what I'm doing on my hands and knees on the floor of her apartment.

"I was just looking for your favorite thimble, I thought it must have fallen on the floor when you fell asleep," I explain, getting up from the floor and sitting in the wooden chair across from her.

With laughter in her eyes, she reaches into her front pocket and pulls out the famous thimble.

"Well you're welcome for trying to help!" I say in feigned anger. Kathrin reaches out and pats my shoulder, as if to comfort me. Then she points to her work table, drawing my attention to the folded clothes on top of it.

"All of those for me? I hope you don't need them by tomorrow..." She shakes her head, no.

"Might as well get a head start on them though, right?" She nods in cheerful encouragement and hands me the first item- a pair of dress pants ripped at the seam. I sigh, pull out my needle from the pincushion on the work table, and get to work finding the right color of grey thread. She picks up her quilt in progress across from me and continues right where she left off, her motions graceful, as if she had never stopped at all.