It started making handmade bracelets woven from wool. 20p here 30p there it was a lot of money at the age of ten. Hours were spent sat in a room just weaving until there were burns on fingers and aching knees. That’s just the way it was, that’s the way it had always been.

Then it up scaled a little to knitted items, hats and scarves mostly, they were the quickest and easiest to make. The long hours were hard but it was worth it for the profits. Gloves were made on a special order, everything sold on the internet. Every day there was a walk to the post office with boxes and packages to be sent away, then back to keep on working. An extra special order for a baby blanket meant overtime but added greatly to the bank balance. At 15, making more money than some 20 year olds. Every last thing was calculated, wool cost, postage. Time wasn’t an issue in these calculations. It was genius and there was always a profit at the end.

There was much excitement when the shop opened in one of the best places it could be. All garments handmade to order, minimal waiting times. Profits from the unique hats alone funded the knitting machines, which tripled profits. It was total genius. No detail was ever missed, that was the beauty of the operation. The money just rolled it’s way in.

The glory ended. To this day we have no clue who gave our plans away. One moment cashing up the next surrounded, raided, everything taken, the shop closed up for good. They didn’t like the genius of our method; they said that the girls needed to be payed. Well, that wasn’t part of their deal and it would mess up the calculations. We gave them food, clothes, warmth, what else could they need? It was more than they had; it seemed fair enough to us. They called it slavery. A business ruined, an entrepreneurs dream ruined. All over a few girls.  

The End

5 comments about this work Feed