littleworries

She was seen.  I saw her, I mean, tiny teeth and spindlefingers.  And when you watch a thing you either drift and disappear, or become a grumpy clumping beast.  Strange ways, both.  Still, she pushed and skimmed her shoes across the floor, shinier than it needed to be, and then lost her hands in her pockets, pressed them flat against her legs, to remember where they were, how they went, and what they needed to do for the moving.  She kept going, which was pleasing.  I was pleased for her.  Moving forwards and straightly can become the tricksiest little pop.