MILDSUNG.
delicate, soft fingers fumble with brass keys; they ‘ tink ‘ against one another as she walks side by side with the taller male. her voice, though rather hoarse, fights with the wind as she speaks, nothing important but the day’s business. if he was kind enough to escort her home from work, she may as well indulge him in her well-being, even if it is rather boring.
‘ and then my mother called, but i was too busy to answer. ‘











