Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light. She let him have it all, as it was, after all, for the last time. She had started wearing the dresses he bought for her, the white and blue shift he said, “brings out the color in your eyes”. " She made the companion without touching stay or rail, which necessitated a fine sense of balance, for there was a growing vigour to the wind and a corresponding lift to the roll of the sea. They are mine! They were sent to ‘Alcide’ not to you. “Fuck you, Julian Rimbauer.
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