White is the oval mirror of my exodus from the fearsome actions of the monsters in the red-brick house. Dark eyes blister as my heart pulses a bleak opus once again. An offering given by a stranger concealed with golden paper and wildflowers singing. After five years of her pleasure, I perceive the wonder of the gift and grasp the stranger’s identity. Such a beautiful thing I had never seen. Her face was an alluring light, blazing like the sun, for she was an angel.
Gazing intently into the mirror, I quickly initiate the smooth passage of her gelatinous cavity. My slip is now a glowing covering of layer upon layer of silk worthy of a queen. Greetings take place from the mermaid who visits from the pristine waters. Her voice comes forth like a rainbow of colors. Purple periwinkle smells of freshly baked cookies. Humans with incandescent wings sit on green moss that never stops humming. Sacred is the knowledge the purple birds share as they fly in this world of peaceful beings.
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