Growing up is a pain, and it is what it is
Okay, It's not the end of the world
Okay, It's not the end of the world
I can’t help smiling as she draws the lines between her lanterns and her siblings—even if it comes out like an afterthought. I wonder, sometimes, what the inside of Nova’s head looks like. A kaleidoscope? A fireworks shop? Whatever it is, the Marin devotion is unmistakable. Even while she breezes past the sentiment, she handles the “Caly” glass and the star-stitched one with that extra sliver of care, like her hands know what her mouth won’t say.
I drift farther from the pool, boots whispering over sand and leaf-litter, and claim the head of the trail. It feels right—first impression, last thing people see when they head back to the city. I rise onto the tips of my toes and hook a rainbow lantern where a branch branch forks. Sunlight and water catch in it, throwing quiet bands across the path. Next, a dazzling pink-and-green one that looks like early spring—new shoots through old bark, flower against thorn. In the thick dark of LongNight, a little memory of warmth won’t hurt. I have to be honest, Nova's work really is lovely.
Nova’s offer lands, and I grin, rocking back down from my stretch. "I’d love to help," I say without playing cool about it. "Odd jobs are kind of my thing. That and trading baked goods." I tap the coin Flora gave me where it hangs on a cord at my throat, tucked under my shirt for luck. I still haven’t spent it; superstition tastes sweeter than currency.
I angle a look at Nova as I reach for the last tie. "If you couldn’t do what you’re doing now, what would you do, you think?" I ask it lightly, like I haven’t asked myself the same question a hundred times. "Like—no design, no Hanged Man. What’s another life you’d pick?"
There's always light where it burns
Theea
