Keitorin's Dream Log

Mom tells me to go get my gray shirt. I go look in the drier but it’s not there. There’s a white one though. I go back to mom with a white toothbrush in hand with a purple decoration at the bottom.

She takes a pair of fabric cutting scissors and starts hacking away at the bristles, complaining after a moment that she wishes it were easier.

She starts putting some thread and the bristles together, and I wonder how because the bristles are so short.

Then she starts sowing the thread to my fingertips, one by one. She then ties my hands behind my back.