She plucked a cloud with her own hands and wove herself a garment of dreams.
Faye Yardley was indeed on a cloud, working unhurriedly. Despite her clumsy fingers when it came to weaving, she was using the cloud fluff to fashion herself a cloak. Or perhaps, it was more of a simple parachute—something to cushion her fall when she jumped.
She couldn't be bothered with how the others were preparing. She had this cloud all to herself, so with no one to compete with, she could take her sweet time. She wasn't in a hurry anyway.
As she continued to weave, Faye Yardley let out a soft "Ah!" 'On the bus, I definitely remembered that I wanted to try inviting Yvonne Lynch over,' she thought. 'How could I have completely forgotten the moment I got off?'
'That's so weird. Is my memory really that bad?'
'Or is something influencing me, making me subconsciously forget about Yvonne Lynch?'
'Something's very wrong.'
