A Hole in the Jumper.

"Honey," mum called to me, holding a very small needle in one hand and a piece of thread extended from a whole cone wrapped with thread in the other, "Can you do this for me? I can't see the hole".

"Sure," I said shortly. I stood in front of my mum, and I took the needle and thread. It wasn't the brightest or most efficient place to be standing, for I was between the kitchen and the dining room, but the kitchen had no light on. The dining room had plenty of strong mandmade light, but I stayed where I was.

"Go into where the light is, you'll see better," mum said as I started trying to poke the thread into the half a milimetre hole. I refused, "I don't need the light." After a few tries, I got it in, where I stood, between light and dark. I gave the needle with tread hanging limply from it to my mum, and she began to fix up that hole in my school jumper that I had for nearly 4 years. The hole only bothered me because people began to notice only this year. This term.

~~~

I suppose I'd realised that standing where I was, between light and dark. I'd had enough light to see what I wanted to see. But claiming that I don't need light, I become blind to a lot of things, because there are things I simply don't see.

But I've chosen what I want to see. And this explains the lot of it.