Flycatcher Downs you might listen to too much jimmy buffett

the poor woman that Indra had nigh accosted in her soaring hopes gracefully moved past the Redleaf’s blunder, accepting Indra’s silent apology with an offer of assistance. for that, Indra felt a welt of gratitude, if not a slight sting of pride she had been so egregiously mistaken - but she sensed the offer was kind, or at the very least, genuine.

for a moment the firebrand did not hide her scrutiny of the stranger. in truth Indra was engaging in her own private battle: wariness and a general mistrust of the world warned her against sharing too much. desperation and the sinking truth Lucas was forever lost warned her against being too recalcitrant; what if by some chance this stranger met Lucas down the road - what if, what if, what if?

Indra had always been haunted by what ifs - they clung to her like needling insecurities.

to hell with it. ”he’s mostly white, with an ashy tan back. he’s about six months of age and always smiling... or dancing. we don’t know where he’s gone.. last we knew he was here and now he is not anymore.”