Minnie listened to the girl's response, and tried to offer her own response to it, but found herself tongue-tied - not that the girl had missed her point, precisely, as that Minnie herself was not sure how to understand her own thoughts she had been trying to communicate. It made her think of Lanie, in a way, Lanie who'd been like a whole world, auto herself, but then, that world had wanted to... or she thought it had. Had wanted to be wrapped up tightly in someone else's arms. Minnie herself felt that desire, then, the thoughts refracting and redirecting themselves through her own brain - how wonderful to be wrapped up, to be smothered and safe inside someone else. She had a sudden overpowering desire to read, to curl into her chair at home, in a warm blanket, and read.
The thoughts made her feel cold, though there was no real reason - the summer night had brought the soft chill of a sea-wind, but the chill was pleasant, or should have been, after the stuffy heat of the tavern. It ran across her arms and carried the sweat from her. But she wrapped her arms together under her chest, and hunched her shoulders like one caught in a bone snapper. And all at the same time, she said nothing - had, in fact, forgotten that she was to respond.
This did not last of course, for she suddenly remembered her companion, and started, stumbling out, "Oh, oh, I, I... you are..." she shook her head, "You're very clever, Miss... " she could not remember the girl's last name of a sudden, and the sentence ended rather falsely.
"Have you ever... ever thought of writing? You could... I..."
The little edge of need crept into her voice, a kind of hope, that did not creep far enough rom the words to make clear its direction.
x
The thoughts made her feel cold, though there was no real reason - the summer night had brought the soft chill of a sea-wind, but the chill was pleasant, or should have been, after the stuffy heat of the tavern. It ran across her arms and carried the sweat from her. But she wrapped her arms together under her chest, and hunched her shoulders like one caught in a bone snapper. And all at the same time, she said nothing - had, in fact, forgotten that she was to respond.
This did not last of course, for she suddenly remembered her companion, and started, stumbling out, "Oh, oh, I, I... you are..." she shook her head, "You're very clever, Miss... " she could not remember the girl's last name of a sudden, and the sentence ended rather falsely.
"Have you ever... ever thought of writing? You could... I..."
The little edge of need crept into her voice, a kind of hope, that did not creep far enough rom the words to make clear its direction.
x
