When: Stormy Time Baby Where: North Beach Who: Open
Toni whistled to herself. And what with being an accomplished whistler of many sorts--idle music, exclamation, pitching it high between to fingers, signals of warning--the sound carried. She’d only just dug herself out of the most recent crevice she wheedled down into when she felt the rumblings of rising water. More rain meant the water table shifted, even when there weren’t a lot of land for it to shift for. Rainy season was no place to find yourself trapped in a cave system with no way out. Even if the deep earth felt like the warm hearth of home and the pitter patter of strangers’ feet made her teeth ache to their roots.
She’d explain that to the next person she saw, once she got her throat warmed up for conversational pursuit. Thinking on strangers there sure did seem to be a lot more of them lately.
“Shii-eet,” Toni plodded to the plane wreckage, letting out a long sweet note of exclamation. “Sure did miss a lot of commotion this time.” She rummaged about, all of the flotsam picked over, kicking idly at a memorial pile here and there like she couldn’t tell what it was. Toni bent over and picked something up in her hand.
Her head turning to the closest person that happened by she managed to croak out a question. “This yours?”
