my feet dont dance like

Anathema pokes her head in the door when she hears the thud of the basket on the floor. “What’s up?”Aziraphale simply points at the shirt. He’s not quite deep enough in his grief to cry at everything, at least not anymore. It’s not quite the ocean it was a few weeks ago, even if the waves are still strong. He’s managed to get a little closer to shore again.“Oh,” Anathema says. “Oh, Az.”And okay. Maybe he is still deep enough in the ocean to cry. It’s been weeks, now, since he’d last found anything, so maybe he’d just wrongly assumed he was getting better.