Snip. Snip. Snip. Scrap tumbled free as the blue cloth became a dress.
It landed with a whisper. Scrap stared at its frayed edges. What am I good for?
Scrap crawled to the sewing basket. "I hold things closed," said Button. Scrap tried to hold something shut.
But Scrap had no hook. No loop. No way to catch anything. It let go.
Scrap stretched wide like a flag. Nothing moved. So Scrap tried again — flat as a boat on the floor.
It tipped right over. Scrap folded in on itself and went still. Maybe nothing would ever move Scrap.
Then — the window opened! Whoosh! The wind caught Scrap's threads and lifted it high. Scrap danced and giggled with the breeze.
Scrap wiped the windowsill clean until it gleamed. Then curled up in the warm light and watched the dress sway.
