Giggling, Aditi grabs my hand and twirls me along as her ghagra’s elaborate mirror embroidery catches in colorful lighting.

It’s strung together through the fibers on the back of the lost

Dreams that leave you sweat-stained and hopeful

How dare we doubt ourselves?

In the midst of our mist and making, we think to miss?

But you need it, you said. I thought you wanted to be beautiful. I slammed my hands on the wheel of your Land Rover and pulled over to the side of the road near the big houses with green lawns and trampolines, Norfolk Way.

Maybe it was the wind that blew her to the ground.

Maybe a subtle hollow she hadn’t noticed brought her down.

Either way, she ends up in the dirt.

Earth covers the soft pink fabric draped over her

Like paint splattered on a porcelain canvas.