Progressive Poem, Line 7

She lives without a net, walking along the alluvium deposits of the delta.
Shoes swing over her shoulder, on her bare feet stick jeweled flecks of dark mica.
Hands faster than fish swing at the ends of bare brown arms. Her hair flows,
snows in wild wind as she digs in the

indigo varnished handbag,

pulls out her grandmother’s oval cuffed bracelet,

strokes the turquoise stones, and steps through the curved doorway.

Tripping on her tail she slips hair first down the slide… splash!

Wow!  This is a twist!  Our persona has a tail!  She's not a mermaid - we've already seen her bare feet.  Hmm...  Now I'm trying to picture her in my head, but I can't get too invested in any ideas I may have now, because my line doesn't come for more than another week!

If you want to go directly to the blogs of the people writing lines, you can follow the links.  I'm not including them in every post, but if you scroll down you'll see I have included them quite frequently.