Pocket Coils

Hattie makes an appearance;

she is stark and with woeful wintry eyes cast downward.
The toes of her boots are wet.
'Fix me afore travellin', missus?'
Aye.
Aye followed by and by those intricate histories of adolescence you have woven.
Nay.
and so forth.

The Hollow waters run like black marbles in November;
everyone stirred, searching for belonging and bedfellows.

Seismic waves

I want to dance though.
Black to-and-fro-dress and fox collar.
Wispy eyes, snow flakes tumbling.