The countryside was a vivid place. Old-fashioned folk resided in the bustling sectors of the city, amidst which was the cottage of Agatha, a well-known woman among the common citizenry. She wore a tight bun around her head as she intertwined her wrinkled hands around the complex piece of wool. The firelight shimmered on her face, presenting shining white hair that held underneath a variety of loops and curls. Her granddaughter Diana lay in a deep sleep in her lap. Agatha caressed her beautiful young face, remembering a time of her own. As she finished her knit, a bright vermillion cardigan perfect for the subfusc winters, she lay down in a curved position next to her granddaughter.
