That was the initial observation when Red stepped out of the apartment building and locked the door behind her. Even she needed to go out into the bitterly persistent cold and buy groceries.
Her little apartment had begun to feel more like a home since she'd moved in last. With the money from her last job, she'd proudly paid off rent for two months, put up new curtains and bought lush, crimson sheets for her sparse bedroom. It was still missing most of the luxuries of twenty-first century life, but had all the comforts of the twenty-fifth: meaning, while she didn't have a television or a radio, she had enough soaps and shampoos to last her two lifetimes.
But she did stop when she saw the little messy girl floating by. She wasn't walking really, because walking would imply something earthly. Watching her, Red scowled like at a lovesick memory. "Hey. You alright?" What was it with weird little kids in this place?