I walked past Tata’s room on the way to Penny’s. Tata was singing. Her curtain was on one side of the doorway; that’s how I could hear her. Through the arched rock I caught a glimpse of her skin, half-stretched upon its frame. I decided I would help her on my way back.
Penny was Dad’s latest wife. She wasn’t really my mom, though sometimes I called her that to make her feel good. She had the biggest room, a natural cave. The ceiling and some parts of the walls had been left exposed: raw basalt, rough and black. White, blue, and green spots hung suspended from the roof.
On the floor a display rose: a pink nest of concentric rings, like the crests of ripples spreading out, higher and higher. The highest came to my waist.
I walked to the center where Penny crouched down like she was the st
