The sunlight kisses her cold cheek and impossibly, he dances upon the tips of her eyelash before being beaten back with a furious splash! "Please! no more sunlight today!", cries she. And he retreats back into his cloud, dimmed, and confused.
“O! And that slightly painful yet massage-like- 'pulling' feeling where her shoulder blades met her wet membrane wings which were a bit heavy with wintery water…”
"A magical ritual which required as many seconds as salt crystals and grains of brown sugar; as many hours as pieces of garlic. And Denisa and the Gears turned a song as the brisket brined and marinated away..."
"The roiling currents wound about her amphibious feet like a gleeful symphony for a new Queen..."
Nothing else had such a way of making the child lose herself... quite like a sunset.
"His hand is right there- right in front of me! Heavens, I know it can't happen but more and more I wonder- can something living be... touched?"
"An interesting detail about her was that she had nine fingers and no college. Yea, but that didn't matter. In the name of that fluttering eye-lash of hers- it didn't matter."
