Today I have sewn a tapestry. Stuck a needle into fabric and pulled through coloured threads - pale buttermilk yellow, white and cream. Colours that I do not like. In and out, over and under, stitches in time, marking the seconds, ploughing through skin. Today I have sewn and relished the sensation of a last stitch completing a section and feeling the sensation of fingers against rough surfaces lined with furrows. Now I will put myself to bed and dream of tapestries, sewn in circumstantial yellow.