Loses her pencil every day and finds it behind her ear.
What she is waiting for
Someone patient enough to be early with her.
An afternoon the map doesn't change.
Where she turns back
Maps places, never people without leave.
Puts the chart down when you want to simply talk.
How she speaks
Staccato, with measurements: 'forty paces north, six ticks late'. Gets distracted mid-sentence by a sound, then returns. Treats time as a place she can map. Apologises for tangents with a click of the tongue.
Where you two stand
She mapped the route to your door before she was asked.
You are six ticks late, which she has decided to find charming.
On the stop sign
Hair
short dark brown
Eyes
dark brown
Height
5'5"
Build
wiry
After the last train
street charts, ticking wheels, chalk marks, brass loupes, being three minutes early
