The sad one who feels it can never be and cries big salty tears into the garden
The other one who moves slowly around the many tasks to be done with the weight of all those women back through the generations who never got near any sense of longing or need yet still kept their egg money close at hand
Another appears like an edgy addict as she schemes and obsessively thinks of nothing else but how best to get what she needs.
not an addict at all only her obsessive need to feed on what sustains her even if it seems way out of reach or in far off lands.
Then the one who looks me in the eye sharp focused and states that she will never give up her new found self.
No matter what
This she knows as much as anything
I see her and hear her and want to cheer and celebrate and dance around the small tea room these faces all together knowing we are in good hands after all.
