Ten minutes in companionable silence passed as I watched my sister with her delicate thread and complex geometric shapes. Her skill with patterns and numbers turned to lace before my eyes and I’d never stop wondering at her.

“You have homework to do”, she said without looking up. I sighed and bowed my head over the book, the letters blurred into a cruel grayness- my concentration was shot.

“I suppose you’ve finished yours?” I asked, still watching her hands weave around black thread and silver needle.

“Yes, but, I’d like to talk about it. Hurry up and finish that act so we can get some coffee and make fun of Polonius.”

I grinned.

“Brevity is the soul of wit.”