Knot of Life She was frazzled, frayed like old tapestry that had been left out in the sun and rain for too long. What had the fates woven for her? It seems that all the twisting of strings and the interwoven threads of others had made a cloth of little significance. Looking over the blanket of time she glanced at the corner. Was it really just one thread that had moved through darting this way and that way around others; pulling tightening, just one making this blanket?