The needles clicked together happily. The young woman who knitted, however, was not happy at all. She sat alone in the empty house.
There was no apparent reason for her to be sad, nor was there one to cause her to be alone. But outward reasons, as they often are, were of little consequence.
She was a beautiful woman in her mid twenties, with shoulder length auburn hair and eyes of cerulean. Once, these gems had sparkled. Once.
Her name was Cremia. She was used to surviving with little or no assistance. Over a decade ago, she had lost her father and had taken charge of Romani Ranch, named for her mother and the namesake of her little sister. Little Romani had only seven years of life behind her at that point. Cremia had been alone.
Now, fifteen years later, Cremia was completely on her own. Romani had give up a dull life of ranch duty for the hustle and bustle of the distant Clock Town. Romani had a lot of silly dreams in her head, but she was becoming more of a lady (at twenty, it was well past time!) and had become focused on her search for a husband.
"I shall not find a man on this ranch," she had pronounced in her new, sophisticated tone.
"I agree," said Cremia then, having not met many eligible men herself. But did she care to? She wasn't sure.
So Cremia had urged her younger sister on. Romani had said that they should sell the ranch and both move to Clock Town. Cremia, of course, objected.
"I will not sell this place that Mother and Father founded—where I've spent my life, Romani!" Cremia had proclaimed. She softened a bit afterward, saying, "It is all right. The ranch is…all I know. You have fun now, all right?"
And that is how a beautiful young woman came to be all alone. But is that everything?
I should think not.