The men from the city, with their large stores and many customers, continued to request more and more clothes. The shelves were always empty, every delivery of dresses that arrived would sell out almost instantly. The man kept promising more and more, thoughts of more money and more objects started to conquer his mind.

The woman stopped going for walks. In her little room inside the house she would weave and sew, hours passed and her hands become so worn and calloused that she could not even hold a cup of tea when the man would bring it to her. He saw her pain, and he ignored it.

The demand increased, the man moved the womans bed into the room with her loom and rags. A lock was placed on the door, she became a possession and he her owner. A year had passed and winter swept over the land again, the ponds froze and the rocks became covered in snow. Inside the house a coldness crept into everything, warmth drained from the man and he drove the woman harder than ever.

Her tears fell on every dress she crafted.