Sometimes she would sit, openmouthed, in front of the oscillating fan. She’d sway slowly back and forth, tracking the fan’s movement as it turned its head from side to side. She would let the air flow deep into her and inflate her lungs like she was a windsock. But most of all she liked to speak into the fan blades and listen to the way they chopped up  the words and threw them back at her in a voice that sounded completely foreign. When she sang, she imagined it sounded the way merpeople sounded when they sang deep under the waves. 

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~ by warpaintandwandering on February 15, 2013.

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