Spinning. Reams and reams of golden thread passed through her fingers as the spinning wheel conutinued on its endless spiral of revolutions. She had blisters now on all the fingers of her right hand. Blood seeped from under her nails and dulled the glow of the thread as it piled higher and higher on the floor beside her. She wondered what the point was but knew she couldn't stop. He would be back soon and then she would know her fate. Spinning. He said that if she got through all of it he would give her her freedom. She didn't believe him and in any case she would never be finished. Spinning. Round and round she watched the wheel as tiny fibres of the gilded thread rose like dust and filled the air and filled her lungs. Breathing was becoming difficult but she must stop. Mustn't stop spinning. Stopped breathing.