Shoppers swirled through the market, ebbing and flowing and streaming and trickling and never stopping. Never silent. Not a pause.
Jiao wanted to crawl out of her skin.
Jiang’s head remained peacefully bowed over his scroll.
“Delicate like your name,” Grandmother would say, more reprimand than compliment.
For Jiao, the viscous Chi of others had always been an unwanted second skin. It weighed her down.
“Let it flow around and past you,” Jiang’s paintbrush danced undisturbed.
Easy, Jiao sighed, when you are the flow.
She tried to focus on the paints. The flowers. A quiet wall on which to hang.
Jiang – (male’s name) “river”
Jiao – (female’s name) “delicate, beautiful, charming”
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
Photo prompt © Brenda Cox
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