Elaine was the 1 to, inexplicably, love the doctor.
        Doctress, she had been covertly ridiculed, called Doctress.
        Elaine laughed in the meadow as if she were 15 and scarcely knowing what love was but hoping to above all.
        At 15 Elaine had fallen in love with every actress she had seen whose talent she deemed worthy. Elaine strictly judged, however swift, and buoyant, and fair. She was swift,
she was hopeful, but she was not forgiving.
        Elaine laughed as Violet strummed dramatically lifting the curtain on Elaine's dream
grown from a girl's vivid hope which had been called expectation, grown out of that sheltered cusp held secret within her girl's heart wherever it was now, beating, beating,
beating within her not an echo or an answer, not a memory, but beating within her prehensile with her essence inextricably it was her essence as every child is cusp of the woman, not memory.
        Have you seen the fluttering wing of a downed bird? It has the heart's rhythm.
        It was here, now, beating in the leaves over the meadow, and in the shimmering of the meadow grasses. Now, when Elaine began to show her love.