She was like dervish, with the cigarettes, with the makeup, with the bangles, with whipping brushes out of her bag, and barrettes appearing out of nowhere and fixing a twist to keep her nape protected. I’d look up from a stolen glance at the sub-headers and find the bun she had speared with a bamboo chopstick (from the Chinese restaurant way down in the garden district, Darlink…) had melted down both sides of her head into pig-tails. God knows what was cinching those up.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-09-17 12:38 am (UTC)Masterful and magical. I've missed your "voice".
More please, whenever you can manage it.