MABEL
She waited for something; laughter at her ignorance, some snort at her indiscretions. The stranger seemed to answer it patiently though – and she was allowed to imagine a lighthouse in its true form, tall, monolithic building, lights corresponding from the top (and not the entire structure), shining out to the waves, to the bays, to the sea. Her eyes followed his, hoping to see it in its actuality and tangibility, but nothing but clouds exist, absconding with the potential. “Oh,” she murmured, lips pursing back together, thoughts churning over. A guide, a hand, to assist ships coming in – something she’d never had to worry or think about. "Where do the ships go?"
Her eyes went back to the long line of sandbags, wondering if they were finished, or if there were any other things necessary to prevent a monsoon’s precision, ugliness, or potential ruination. Gaze snapping back to the man, a shrug yearned to clamber over her shoulders, just to rid herself of the discomfort. “Do you need anything else done?”
Her eyes went back to the long line of sandbags, wondering if they were finished, or if there were any other things necessary to prevent a monsoon’s precision, ugliness, or potential ruination. Gaze snapping back to the man, a shrug yearned to clamber over her shoulders, just to rid herself of the discomfort. “Do you need anything else done?”
I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out
and stretch my claws out
