[Boathouse]
[Midnight. The moon was pale and swollen, and she thought of women's bellies and all of the metaphors involving mothers and lifeblood and ocean tides. She'd gotten somebody to watch Wyatt, and tried not to feel guilty about it because she never did things like this. Things just for her felt strangely selfish despite all of the counsel that told her otherwise.
She didn't really have any dancing dresses, but managed to borrow one from one of the impermanent girls that floated in or out of Repose on their way to someplace better. They'd usually ride in with a trucker one night, put down stakes in a Hookerville trailer for a month or two, and inevitably rush off with a client or (worse) a pimp.
So Destiny was white, like the moon, when she walked up to the boathouse beside the lake. Her jewelry was a single gold coin on a chain, and some black beaded earrings that dangled long. Her dancing shoes were just plastic flip flops.]