lastduchess
She waves at everyone.
She is four.
The people on the street. The people in line at the grocery store. The people serving her family in a restaurant. In the car, she sits in her car seat and waves.
Everyone waves back. She is four.
She always applied eyeliner with less care than she should, then touched it up. It was the same with nail polish. It entailed more work, in the end, really, but it was habit.
His bandana was green, now. It had been yellow when she knew him last. It was strange, that it wasn't the same bandana. He hadn't changed otherwise. To look at, anyway. Maybe he had a brand-new personality, represented to the world in a different bandana-hue.
There was a chorus of birds. They were in the tress, and on the wires, on the ground and in the air. All of them were making noise. Cheeps and tweets and squawks and a woodpecker banging away. It was beautiful and terrifying.