It's a cross-section of life here: homeless beggars, high-class executives, a trio of girls on violins and an old man playing a whining warbling saw, joggers and skaters, families out with dogs.
River has no Earth money. No bus pass, no map, no guide. Southeast, following the skyline or an internal compass: she walks, and she runs.
There's desperation in her tight-backed hurry, in her wild darting eyes, in the way her breath comes fast and her hands twist and twitch at her sides and in her hair. Passersby veer away from her half-consciously, with glances of faint pity or disgust or nothing at all; she ignores them, arms tightening now and then around her torso, and jogs frantically on.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2007-08-17 08:11 am (UTC)River has no Earth money. No bus pass, no map, no guide. Southeast, following the skyline or an internal compass: she walks, and she runs.
There's desperation in her tight-backed hurry, in her wild darting eyes, in the way her breath comes fast and her hands twist and twitch at her sides and in her hair. Passersby veer away from her half-consciously, with glances of faint pity or disgust or nothing at all; she ignores them, arms tightening now and then around her torso, and jogs frantically on.