and the girl ducked out of the rain to chew spiced fingernails between rushes of blood. her hood made a garden pond behind her ears and maple rotors crash-landed there. her limbs got cotton numb beneath wet legs and sleeves. dry drink crossed her cheekbones. it had been tossed there by a pixie who lost her diadem on the cloakroom floor and didn’t know who to shout at about it. now fingertips ice-skated over the keypad through a syrup of bloat words that came unstoppered as soon as she warmed to the phone screen. she knew that it wasn’t the time but see-through read best that way; in cool walks under cover of no umbrella where every drop was headed for the drain.