I’m in my pjs, lounging on my comfy sofa. A pile of unstitched material peeking through the door opening awaits my attention. This lock-down has clipped my wings and keeps a tight leash on my unrelenting desire of window shopping. How could I be so oblivious to my surroundings? But at times, a mischievous part of myself urged me to brush my hands through the ripples of smooth fabric, resting on the table, awaiting to be cut by scissors and pierced by needle. Oh! I awoke to find them missing. They probably have made their way towards the final destination. To turn into a beautiful and ravishing outfit. They too are bored of confinement.
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