tcan78
Remember that time we were down by the docks? It was night, or pretty close. And I was stressed, it had been a bad day. One of those days that leaves your shoulders in knotty tangles. But that had been day and this was night, and you were holding me down by the docks. That was the one good thing that had happened, and it made that day near perfect.
it was a curious day. Everything strange had happened, the little prince had fallen from the sky, her blue eyes had turned brown, he had said he never loved her. Quite an unusual day.
The lepaurchans didn't come this year. I used to believe in them, but all the magic has dripped from my mind and turned the grass brown where it landed. There's nothing sadder than dead magic. I wonder if the fairies have been all gone and buried, too. And the clovers are wilting now, because there is no one to take care of them.
The cacophony of voices surged and arched over head until they came crashing down on my head. I was no longer a church goer, my angelic voice could no longer be distinguished in the throng. I was no angel.