The Knitting Box won Best Short Story of 2007 from Infuze Magazine

The Knitting Box

by

Jamie Carie

I sit, my spine straighter than natural, in a waiting room on an overstuffed pink chair with frayed cording, the cold vinyl seeping through my jeans making me wrap my equally pink coat tighter across my chest. The room is harsh in both light and smell causing me to revert to shallow nose breathing to avoid the anxiety building tension of knowing I’m allergic to mold. Thank God, at least, I’m waiting alone.

The receptionist’s chair sits empty and poised for duty at the corner desk where an older, boxy monitor stares blankly back. The walls, painted a pale shade of green in a room with pink to rose accents, scream sedation. Sit still, they tell me . . . relax . . . breathe. They should have painted it blood red, a wine baptism of the real, revealing truth.