Better The Devil You Know…

, , , , | Right | November 30, 2020

Late Saturday morning, I saunter into a small yarn shop to get some supplies for some Christmas scarves for friends. The proprietor is teaching a woman knitting, so I wander around, picking my colours and weights.

Arms full, I head to the till to wait for a break in the lesson to pay, but the student points at me and speaks to the shopkeeper.

Student: “You should go help the devil. She’s just paying.”

I looked at her in shock at her calling me the devil. I had been nothing but quiet and self-sufficient, and I had been waiting patiently — no toe-tapping or watch-checking at all. But I am not a patient person at the best of times, so I worried that I’d been giving off a vibe.

Then, I remembered that it was Hallowe’en and I was wearing little beaded devil horns. I snorted and thanked the student for taking a break, relieved that my memory was faster than my usually quick mouth.

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