The Last Stitch

When the call to prayer echoed, Hassan folded the last piece of embroidered cloth.
Once, tourists crowded his stall, praising patterns his mother taught him to weave.
Now, the lights dim early; younger hands prefer screens to needles.
He still ties the final knot slowly — out of habit, out of love.
Sometimes, tradition survives not through fame, but through one man’s quiet muscle memory.