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[personal profile] alasanon
we watched as things began to fall apart all around her, as the cogs that kept everything going smoothly began to shatter and their bits fly everywhere, as the sharp fragments of metal sliced into every piece of exposed skin...

she kept walking, despite the destruction around her. this, in and of itself, did not surprise us, nor did her casual acceptance of the danger she was in. the thing that startled us into action at last was her jaunty laughter--that she seemed so casual about the blood slipping out of her skin and over her flesh.

when the world had calmed and the dangerous rain of shards had ceased, she tied up her hair with a scrap ripped from her tattered dress, took off her shoes and started dancing. there was nothing more we could say. we gave her our blessings and left again.

we have never held all the answers, but it had become obvious then that, even if we had held the heavy truths of life in our precarious grasp, she would not have wanted them. she had her own beauty, and that was enough.

this week is fiction week it seems, which suits me well enough, because fictions are abounding. simple fictions, complex fictions, and some fictions that seem to be reality...they are collecting themselves and waiting for someone to pick them up.

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