overboard ovenbird In the ferry terminal, where we're packed like produce meant for shipping, she turns her face into performance art. I barely have room to move my arms but she's plucking her eyebrows with gold tweezers and pulling powders and potions from a bag so small I suspect she must be the Mary_Poppins of cosmetics. First, foundation, blended with a brush so lush I want to reach out and touch it. Then blush the colour of peonies. Mascara on lashes that already look too long to be real. Opal highlighter applied with a deft finger, then loose finishing powder on a cotton pad to press everything into permanence. I wonder why the day requires such an impermeable mask. I want to say, “You could take everything in that bag and throw it overboard, you know. You know, you could be free.” 251129 what's it to you? who go blather from