He cupped both hands for her to softly land on to; and then when she grew a couple of years wiser, the next time he came by he lifted her by her waist and perched her atop a boundary wall, making her heart swoop along with the rest of her. She made herself a home with many bodies; some were travel hostels, where the stay never lasted for over a night. Others came by as apartments rented out temporarily, tied with the knowledge of a moving out date. The search for her own home frequently yielded poor results. "You're a free spirit, I can't see you being tied down to one place", said one of those apartments. She wasn't sure how to respond, so she left this place soon enough and moved on to another. Maybe this new place might be home, the one that would tie her down without asking too many questions? So she sits down to read Rushdie, while nervously biting off dark chocolate in her ikat pajamas and sipping from a happy glass of red wine.
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