DIIN’s mother spent the next two days cleaning and fixing the SKIMMA. She washed and dried it a few times before starting the repairs; using whatever materials she could spare to fix the multiple tears on the stuffed toy’s body. Wires and cords, of various metals and plastics, too short to be sold off to the recyclers, as varied in material as they were in their color, were used to fix the smallest tears that hadn’t opened up too much. The bigger holes on the SKIMMA were fixed using whatever unsellable electronic parts she had handy. She cut them up as best as she could, and used a hot needle to sew them to the creature’s body and head.

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When the SKIMMA was fully repaired, DIIN’s mother used her finest possession – something she had found in the trash heap a few months ago, something she knew would fetch a good price but would also make a perfect birthday gift for her daughter – to add the finishing touches to her child’s new toy. She had initially planned on using it on the best piece of clothing she could scavenge before her daughter’s special day arrived, but the SKIMMA had turned out to be an even better subject.

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She took her time and created the exact threading pattern she wanted in her mind. When she was ready, she pulled out her intended gift, a multi-colored thick neon thread. A thread that glowed in the dark. A thread that was made up of every color one could possibly think of, and each color, no matter how similar or different it was than the one next to it, blended into its neighbors perfectly. DIIN’s mother had never seen anything so beautiful. She couldn’t wait to see the expression on her daughter’s face when she saw it for the first time.

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DIIN’s mother worked the thread into the SKIMMA’s chest slowly, making sure to follow the now faded letters that had been scribbled on it, following their lines and covering them up with her threaded pattern. She didn’t change the letters or the words. She didn’t understand the language they were in, and had no idea what they meant. She, however, knew that they had meant something to somebody, and she didn’t wish to change that. She instead used the last of the thread to create another pattern under the words, one which spelled her daughter’s name in their language.

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She added whatever finishing touches she could to the SKIMMA, and fixed its eye patch and the strange colorful casings that hung off its horns to the best of her ability, after which she turned around and silently made her way to the corner her daughter lay sleeping in. She had finished just in time. DIIN was about to awake any second now. It was time to leave for the trash heap, and get a decent scavenging spot before the first light of the day struck. She placed the SKIMMA on her daughter’s chest and sat down next to her. Her husband joined her a few minutes later, and both sets of eyes fixated themselves on DIIN, making sure that neither missed that first reaction they had been waiting for so eagerly.

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“Here we go,” she smiled and whispered, as DIIN’s eyes began to open.