The threadShe couldn’t remember when she had first spotted the thread or how it got there. It was red and very thin. Wound tightly around the stone she still wore on her finger. It hadn’t been there early in the morning. She had taken off her ring so she could wash him. Even though everyone had advised against it, she had insisted on doing it herself. Somehow, her hands had managed to soap themselves and carefully she had let them glide over his...
