Crying about craft supplies drabbles: Knitting supplies, for anon
“Look what came today!” Mabel sang to the
webcam, hefting a large cardboard box into view.
“We wanted to wait so you could watch us
open it,” Dipper added.
“Yeah! For warm fuzzies reasons and in
case it’s another cursed relic you need to help us exorcise!”
“I promise,” Ford replied, “There’s
absolutely nothing cursed about this package. Look! I didn’t even need to ward
“You said you didn’t need to ward the one
two boxes ago and that almost got us tried for witchcraft,” Dipper pointed out.
“I know you’re still getting used to the rules in this dimension, but the
postal service is threatening to cut us off.”
Ford laughed. “If they do, we’ll just have
to find a new way of delivering mail. I know Fiddleford was thinking about repurposing
that Pterodactyltron …”
My pen pal is a year older than me and she got married, had a baby, and graduated from dentistry school. I write gay porn, sleep and cry a lot, and sometimes knit. Reading her letters makes me feel so bad about myself.