is.

The car that slowed down behind her as she crossed, did not seem to care about the slow market lines, and the cargo Nihilia carried that evening. A red laundry cart, with gaping holes that exposed off the five dollar socks and assorted baseball tees from Old Navy. All of it, and more, tumbled through the five dollar laundromat, just minutes before closing.

The sky steadied into black. Boreas circled around her whole body, nipping at her lotus feet within the damp boots, and tattered scarf. He seeped into the fur-tinged hood, and trickled into Nihilia’s dark brown eyes, that struggled to stay aware of the impending curb.

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