Lani wanted to finish before the rain arrived. Beyond the open window, the hills had turned the color of dry grass, and a dark cloud was gathering at their edges. On the loom in front of her, one loose thread kept slipping out of place.
She pulled it tight. Then she pulled it tighter. The small piece of cloth began to bend, and she set down her work with a sigh. Everything she had hoped to make seemed easier in her imagination.
Her aunt sat beside her without taking over. Together they loosened the last few rows. The afternoon grew quiet enough for Lani to hear a bird outside and the wooden frame creak beneath her hands.
This time, she left the thread a little room. The cloth settled. A narrow line of blue crossed the warm brown weave, and Lani thought of the thin river she had seen from the hill that morning.
Rain finally reached the roof. She had not finished, but she no longer wanted to hurry. She could see what the next row needed, and that was enough for one afternoon.
Before closing the window, Lani laid a fresh length of thread beside the loom. Tomorrow already had a beginning.