Katelyn Prince
Stories (2)
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The Octopus
I don't know why I first made an octopus. I'm just glad I did. All I know is that, when I decided to turn a bunch of yarn into a stuffed animal, I really didn't know what I was doing. See, I didn't learn from my grandmother, like so many others have. My mom tried to teach me when I was a kid, but my obsession with doing things quickly clashed with her obsession of doing things well. I think I made a potholder, but honestly, I don't remember. I may have actually given up halfway through. But despite not having an actual product to show for that first lesson, I did gain something. My first teacher, my Mom, taught me a valuable lesson: how the final crochet product should look, and how the yarn and hook should feel in my hands as I traveled up and down the rows. I could crochet the same way a one-year-old can walk. Not well by any standard except now I had made a crochet square, while the day before I'd never held a hook.
By Katelyn Prince5 years ago in Humans
What Came Before
I sat crouched on the filthy kitchen floor, the murky water nearly covering the toes of my faded green rainboots. Leaves and moss swirled around me, mingling with brown and green foam floating on the surface as I carefully turned the pages of the old recipe book in my hands. Thanks to the scarf wrapped around my nose and mouth, I’d gotten used to the acidic, rancid smell that permeated the entire house about an hour after walking in. The water ebbed and flowed around me, sending out ripples and quiet splashes against the walls. These sounds, as well as the smell, had faded into the background.
By Katelyn Prince5 years ago in Fiction
