"Yeah," she says, like someone going through her steps in slow-motion before stepping into the dance. "I think it'd work better that way. 'Cause that way if I can make the photo move, we'll know it really worked," and I nod and touch her shoulder, step up and forward and around her as I go up to my baby, start her spinning.
She's slow, for a moment. The air's slow and almost heavy, and it makes me think of honey and old glass. But she moves, she does, with a creak in the bones of her to start and then she shrugs herself awake, yawn and a rumble and the gears mesh into each other, and then the thin and fine piping of her starts coming out through and into the air.
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Date: 2012-09-05 04:15 am (UTC)She's slow, for a moment. The air's slow and almost heavy, and it makes me think of honey and old glass. But she moves, she does, with a creak in the bones of her to start and then she shrugs herself awake, yawn and a rumble and the gears mesh into each other, and then the thin and fine piping of her starts coming out through and into the air.