3000 words edited and finally got to introduce Kyawtchais, my PoV autistic character.
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Three or four or five sound fibres at a time. Ey separated them from the mass so ey could put meaning to them. Then twisted them into the whole thread of memory. When one sound-fibre ran out, another picked up to take its place.
It was as hard as spinning the linen thread in eir hands was reflexive. But like the spindle, once ey started, ey couldn't just 'stop.' The momentum of the spin needed to run out. If you tried to grab the spindle mid-spin, the friction of it would sting your hand.
The sound-fibres held em tightly, as tightly as the linen fibres wrapped the spindle. So the first sign ey had that anything was wrong was the hand closing on eir shoulder and knocking em to the ground.