“Oh my God!  Sanchez… Shit!”

I turned torch and gun aimed toward Marins.  “Waddya got…” I stopped mid sentence thinking that shit wasn’t quite expletive enough to cover it.

“You kiddin’ me?  What the fu…they said BnE right?”

I could tell from his wide eyes and panicked voice that Marins needed reassurance, but I was running low.

“Rent-a-cop called in a break in right?  Right?”

“Yah 594.” It wouldn’t take a crack detective to figure the how out, based on her scorched hands and the ozone smell of burnt out wiring, but the why would be a different story. I mean what makes a person get out in the rain to trespass in an abandoned textile mill with about 50 pounds of yarn anyway?  “Better call it in Marins.”

“Oh okay just give me a sec I need to look up the code for a yarn bombing gone south.”

A bubble of hysterical laughter built in my chest till I couldn’t contain myself any longer.  “Just cut the shit and hurry up Marins if this ends up on the nightly news the kiddies are going to have Technicolor nightmares.”

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All rights to owner

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Sooo I have been crafting Christmas gifts for call my relatives this year which means I have been remiss in the WordPress posting department. I hope you can all forgive me, for the lack of posts and possible lack of holiday spirit in my Christmas eve post 🙂

You got to love the kind of bored/crazy that makes a person knit or crochet a giant squid suit for a tree or a bench monster.
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Yarn bombers your confuse and intrigue me!

Happy Holidays y’all!

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