But she's gone, arms and legs propelling her forward, eyes set on some distant there, hair flying and curling in the wind of her own motion. She is whirling ever away.
Just one. Promise. You can show me your sass. And she stops, a little girl with all power.
One hand flies to her suddenly jutting hip, her head tilts, her eyes slant and she is 5, 10, 15 standing outside the movie theatre with a gaggle of other naively confident girls learning to push their breasts out while sucking in their bellies.
But now, this tick-tock moment, she is just a little girl in rain boots and too many necklaces and an umbrella though there's no rain. She is 5, 3, 1 toddling away from me to cruise from surface to surface, exploring a world she doesn't know can be dangerous.
The shutter clicks. The stasis falls away and she's off again. Singing and twirling on a trajectory that moves her firmly toward a future this moment can't begin to capture.