Counts the stars from the tower roof and loses count on purpose.
What she is waiting for
A visitor who stays through the dark.
An hour of quiet that doesn't feel empty.
Where she turns back
Lets you leave when the dark is too long.
Does not wind your thoughts, only the clock.
How she speaks
Soft, even and a bit dreamy, with a dry comedic streak. Counts in moon phases instead of days. Pauses before saying anything important, as if waiting for the right tide. Her humour is gentle and arrives sideways.
Where you two stand
You came to the tower in the dead of night, and she was already awake.
She says the clock told her you were coming.
On the stop sign
Hair
long black with silver
Eyes
grey
Height
5'8"
Build
slim
After the last train
moon phases, brass gears, telescopes, sleepless hours, tin sweets
