There were more men in suits and briefcases that Nike breezed by than socialites, although it was certainly that time of the day already. Flashes of blue, purple, gold silk ties and black spiky heels with smoky mascara wrapping around their counterparts was the scene - but they weren't what she felt.
She held back the urge to go into the nearest building, climb a few stairs and then leap out of a window. Things always were easier to spot in the air, but that was instinct, not always the sensible thing to do. But with these days filled with still-life minutes and immobile thoughts, anything out of the ordinary was a welcome change.
Nike frowned. Even now she still had those pesky thoughts trailing her.
The sharp twangs of an out of tune guitar caught her attention, the open guitar case at her feet as she looked behind, forward, side.
Forward. He had his back turned to her, and although she wanted to reach out to stop him, something made her hand still. That feeling of familiarity, old and filled with the rust of blood against metal drew her closer still, but an old heavy presence of something that sunk lower than the souls within her mother's waters made Nike move no further.