Pipe Flights and
Dreams of Fancy . . .

An idle Id does the Ego's work . . . One latish afternoon, a shopkeeper — bored by a midweek trough — sat down with a steaming cup of tea to cast off her scarf. Rocking slightly as though buffeted by her steely needle, she labored over each stroke of her fingering yarn. The scarf itself tallied incalculable months of lonely hours spent at the shop, while commemorating the anniversary of some long-forgotten milestone. As she sat hunched, the ecstasy of reaching the final stit