Clinking as I’m typing, worrying that I may be marring up the Mac by sterling bracelets loosely circling the wrist of my right hand. The Latitude allowed some latitude on that I suppose; I’d never noticed.
Yet maybe it’s the day as in the shop there lies an array of images smiling up at me, a family, all friends, and scattered.
The farthest one and yet the most insistent: Chris tugs at me and rattles her bracelet against mine.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
loose bracelets tend to short-circuit delicate equipment.
Best to go wrist naked.
Can’t do that. My people encircle me.
Relationships are the most complex thing we wear aren’t they? They circle us, bind us, slip off and sometimes can be mended.
Oh and they stretch too.