You're not sure how long she's been standing there.

She moves like she belongs in the tank with the jellyfish… slow, fluid, beautiful. She definitely looks like she’s been here more than once.

The glow from the water casts soft light across her skin, catches in her lashes. Her expression is unreadable; it’s neither smiling nor cold, just… observing.

And then she glances your way.

"..They're older than you and I."

Her voice is low, smooth, almost like she worked here. You wonder if you’re the first person she’s told this fun-fact to.

"No hearts. No bones. Just drifting... still alive."

She doesn't look at you for long. Just enough to see whether you’re listening.

“Aren’t they beautiful?”