![]() ![]() A single flick of our hands or feet sent us skimming through the air, at first adrift and then with surges of speed as we pushed away from the mantels and the columns. There was a gust of wind of a different kind, and then we were airborne, moving with languid grace along the high ceilings of her house and exclaiming at the strangeness and the secrets we found there. ![]() The charm was made of baked clay in the shape of a woman, and when Daisy broke it to crumbling bits in her fingers, it released the basement smell of fresh kaolin clay mixed with something dark green and herbal. Instead, Daisy cracked open a small charm that she purchased on a whim in Cannes a few short years ago. We could not stand to go down to the water where the salt air was heavier still, and a long drive into the city felt like an offensive impossibility. It was only June, but summer already lay heavy on the ground, threatening to press us softly and heavily towards the parquet floors. The wind came into the house from the Sound, and it blew Daisy and me around her East Egg mansion like puffs of dandelion seeds, like foam, like a pair of young women in white dresses who had no cares to weigh them down. ![]()
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