- Vol. 04
- Chapter 05
If she shakes her hands silver rings will fall like splashes of water. If she could shake her hands. Her fingers are traces of smoke, phantoms in the light of dawn. Once strong, firm, they’d push back wild hair while her hitch-hiker’s thumb stood determined to stop all the lads; and she’d hold onto the motorbike guy, until the next brief stop in a life on the move. Now, the skin is transparent. Her fingers cage a butterfly that trembles on the soft skin of her palm; fragile wings flutter in the arch of her gentle grasp. At 5.23am, a long sigh escapes her, and at last they fly      free.