Thursday, February 07, 2013

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each

Someone's calling my name, but they are not calling for me. The three syllables bounce across the chilly courtyard and hit brick, distorting, someone laughing.

No matter. I like it here. Black jacket pulled close, ponytail whipped by wind. I don't look old enough to have any sort of authority, but nobody seems to mind.

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