She is an entry in a thesaurus. Sharp, cruel, altruistic in wholly different ways – a shiftshaper, viscous, bound together with glue and papier mâche. Made of spaghetti strands, calloused feet and outfitted with an elephant’s sneeze. Not particularly dependable, not with that fish brain of hers. Communicates with a sunsoaked voice that is only ever sincere in her apologies, otherwise it’s lilting, teasing, mimicking, bullying. Has an undeveloped character, an immaturity that knows nothing but appreciates, is willing to learn more with every step she takes. The human counterpart of Chronos, she waits for no one. Amicable but not friendly, polite but not kind. She is not magnetic, has enough fingers on one hand to count all her friends. Critical, slick, a terrible interpreter of intentions but a good reader of people. Not the stereotypical kind of girl, not a teenager who wants 2.3 children and a terracotta house on a street named Winsetta. Fickle, but content with her current lot. Jeans and tee girl, making faces at her reflection on the subway and nearly missing her stop.