Grandma and Grandpa chose the rug for its bright colours and hooked it sitting by the fireside. It took them a whole winter but they were agreed it looked handsome when done.
It was good wool and it gave them warmth and pleasure. They would sit with their bare toes buried in its thickness and grin at each other happily.
When Grandpa died, Grandma lost interest and just faded away.
House clearance was the province of their sharp-voiced daughter, who was accounted efficient and emotionless.
People would have laughed to see her crying over a faded and scorched rug…