Taste: water, sweet in the back of the throat: carrot
Touch: a mist of water sprayed on the back of the neck intensified by the breeze of a strong fan in winter
Smell: patchouli, an especially strong incense just beginning to burn and already filling the room
Sound: silent snipping, instead there's Portishead, "Nobody loves me it's true; not like you do." The same lyrics used with varying rhythms.
Sight: her daughter's name tatooted on the back of her arm beside blue Hawaiian flowers, the width of the biceps from holding up the child or holding her arms permantely bent while she cuts hair
Extra: stuck in a battle between ennui and anticipation
Touch: a mist of water sprayed on the back of the neck intensified by the breeze of a strong fan in winter
Smell: patchouli, an especially strong incense just beginning to burn and already filling the room
Sound: silent snipping, instead there's Portishead, "Nobody loves me it's true; not like you do." The same lyrics used with varying rhythms.
Sight: her daughter's name tatooted on the back of her arm beside blue Hawaiian flowers, the width of the biceps from holding up the child or holding her arms permantely bent while she cuts hair
Extra: stuck in a battle between ennui and anticipation