for Scotty
It didn't take long for Prior to finish sewing the pillow, but it had still been a somewhat intricate process, as it wasn't just two panels of material, but rather, a patchwork. It consisted of a number of different fabrics, some the same purple as the drapes in Scotty's hut, and the rest darker complements - navy, maroon, gray. Deep colors, royal colors. All sewn together by hand with thick, black thread. He had purposely cut the squares not-quite-scare, as he was terrible sewing straight lines anyway, when his hands shook. But like this, it looked purposeful.
So once he finished, he walked across the way to Scotty's hut. He'd even let Maureen persuade him into what she called "real clothes," mostly just to shut her up. The fact that she was trying to matchmake or something was ludicrous, but sometimes it was easier to just humor her. And he didn't like to harp on the fact that the reason he wore baggy gym pants most of the time was that they didn't irritate the lesions on his legs. So he'd pulled on a pair of black pants that were still a little baggy just because he was apparently on a low swing of his ever-fluctuating weight, along with a wine red shirt, so she'd let him leave.
He knocked on Scotty's door, the pillow under his arm, cane in his other hand.
So once he finished, he walked across the way to Scotty's hut. He'd even let Maureen persuade him into what she called "real clothes," mostly just to shut her up. The fact that she was trying to matchmake or something was ludicrous, but sometimes it was easier to just humor her. And he didn't like to harp on the fact that the reason he wore baggy gym pants most of the time was that they didn't irritate the lesions on his legs. So he'd pulled on a pair of black pants that were still a little baggy just because he was apparently on a low swing of his ever-fluctuating weight, along with a wine red shirt, so she'd let him leave.
He knocked on Scotty's door, the pillow under his arm, cane in his other hand.