Red Sarah fruit the strands falling into place

the strands falling into place one by one

He steps onto the gravel with his gloves in hand

without consistent build-up

Light on the wrist

Red Sarah fruit the strands falling into placeSarah doesnt wait for the music to change; she moves through it, letting it bend around her instead. The room is already full, voices layered over one another, laughter spilling too easily the kind of confidence that comes from thinking nothing will interrupt it. It shifts when she enters, not all at once, but enough to be felt. Enough for a few people to glance up, recognising her before they mean to. Red draws the eye first. It holds steady at her