Fray

The tailor rests in her workshop alone. Grabbing the thread for the day's work ahead, she begins pushing needle through cloth. In exercise, she customizes garments, stitch by stitch, Though it's slow, her craftsmanship shows uniquely perfect alterations to all her customers' clothes. Free of charge she'll embroider! Weaving colorful flosses in and out, she's leaving shapes and symbols of brightness about. Now, next door resides a factory-- Producing pants and gray garb by the pound, sewing seams a million a minute, machines militarily hum-- a deafening sound. Though it's quick, embroidery: $2.50 a stitch! Soon soulless, the town paces around; robotic sporting same-sized sacks, bland factory templates surround. Yet the tailor still rests in her workshop alone: knowing stitches sincere are those that are *****, perfect to the individual, not the machine.