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Another spirit drifted along, muttering under her breath. "Stupid Long Island traffic... takes you hours to get to the next county, much less the Wight's Barrow...." However, she was in good spirits (if you'll forgive the unintentional pun) as the door opened and she could see the cheery light coming from inside.
She entered the barrow, noticing with satisfaction that many people were already present. The "she" in question wore a long skirt and boots, and many pieces of jewelry which she would describe as "funky," including a costume jewelry brooch, courtesy of a now-dead great-grandmother, which most people would describe as "tacky" (the brooch, not the great-grandmother). She was, of course, wearing other pieces of clothing as well, but they do not merit further description. Additionally, she had braided her blonde hair the night before, so now it fell about a freckled face (hers) in long waves.
Scanning the growing throng of Downers, she realized that she had forgotten to pin on her name tag. She whipped out a fancy quill pen and turquiose ink from her special quill-and-ink holster and wrote "Enca(i)" on the tag before attaching it to her shirt, taking care not to stab herself with the pin.
Enca was happy to see that several of her esteemed associates appeared to be of musical inclination; she had indeed brought her flute, her pride and joy and, with any luck, her ticket into college. A spirit dressed in red and black was holding a flute as well. As she approached, she read his name tag: Hookbill.
Before she reached him, though, she bumped into Estelyn, aka "H".
"Evening," Enca said. Esty returned the greeting. "You know, a funny thing happened on the way to Ithaca when I was visiting the college there. I actually saw an Esty Street. I would have stolen the sign for you, but, you know, it's illegal. That's why it's called stealing."
"Did you take a picture for the signs gallery?" Esty asked.
Enca sighed dramatically. "Alas, I had no camera. Not even a nifty camera phone. My phone is old-school, I guess. That's okay, though. It calls people. I don't need to be able to run a space station from it or anything."
She then came to Hookbill. "Hello, fellow flautist!" she said to the peanut-munching spirit. "Or do you say flutist? I prefer flautist, quite frankly -- it sounds fancier. Speaking of fancy, would you fancy a duet sometime tonight? Looks like we've got a miniature orchestra assembling," she said, nodding towards the piano and two spirits with a violin and viola.
Enca hoped they were in tune.
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