The sounds of laughter and music and cheer trickled down the street with the wind, carrying smells and ideas with it, the feeling of warmth and merriment unmistakeable; even a dark heart would have to acknowledge Christmas was here and good will was abundant. She'd found it in Cricket, her scampering mad friend, Vampiress and her colleague at the Rictor Mortis Funeral Parlour.
Aretha was sitting on a bench with her suitcases and backpacks surrounding her. She'd been doing it all evening. Plopping down wherever took her fancy in this new, large, limitless city, and watching the people, giggling as children played with balloons too big and too windy for them, Mothers run to pick up their rambunctious lot only to be pushed away by that same wind, skirts afly, husbands remarking to themselves what a great, windswept luck they had. It was nice to watch, but Aretha well, she felt all the more alone. She had only Cricket, and Cricket while a good heart never hung around long. The last she'd seen from her was a note, stuck with a medical utensil to the door of her crappy apartment offering her a room elsewhere, if she wanted it.
Aretha didn't initially take to the idea, and tried in ernest to find Renee, to discuss the matter, otherwise who would take it over if she didn't, and how much was the rent? But for once she decided to use what Cricket had left behind, and make something of this messy, vague offer.
Later that night, in a pool of her six canvas bags and the like, she tapped on the door to Isis Manor, and sung out softly, against the cold, still air, "Ivy?", sea-blue eyes searching this way and that.
A light snowfall had begun, and turning to face the front yard from the porch, she rubbed her arms and chewed at her shuddering lips. It was frightening, to a degree, how very small she felt, how very much like a ghost. Even at her job she'd been a shadow, clinging to the wall with the other flowers, with all their shy smiles and too-witty, all seeing statements. Didn't help them or her to adjust to a new place.
This here was a big effort, and turning to see the door again, and whether she had been heard, she promised herself she'd try, to smile more and not stay locked in her new room all day, with old records and her quiet hobbies.
Aretha was sitting on a bench with her suitcases and backpacks surrounding her. She'd been doing it all evening. Plopping down wherever took her fancy in this new, large, limitless city, and watching the people, giggling as children played with balloons too big and too windy for them, Mothers run to pick up their rambunctious lot only to be pushed away by that same wind, skirts afly, husbands remarking to themselves what a great, windswept luck they had. It was nice to watch, but Aretha well, she felt all the more alone. She had only Cricket, and Cricket while a good heart never hung around long. The last she'd seen from her was a note, stuck with a medical utensil to the door of her crappy apartment offering her a room elsewhere, if she wanted it.
Aretha didn't initially take to the idea, and tried in ernest to find Renee, to discuss the matter, otherwise who would take it over if she didn't, and how much was the rent? But for once she decided to use what Cricket had left behind, and make something of this messy, vague offer.
Later that night, in a pool of her six canvas bags and the like, she tapped on the door to Isis Manor, and sung out softly, against the cold, still air, "Ivy?", sea-blue eyes searching this way and that.
A light snowfall had begun, and turning to face the front yard from the porch, she rubbed her arms and chewed at her shuddering lips. It was frightening, to a degree, how very small she felt, how very much like a ghost. Even at her job she'd been a shadow, clinging to the wall with the other flowers, with all their shy smiles and too-witty, all seeing statements. Didn't help them or her to adjust to a new place.
This here was a big effort, and turning to see the door again, and whether she had been heard, she promised herself she'd try, to smile more and not stay locked in her new room all day, with old records and her quiet hobbies.