The girl is on her knees, her chin brought up, and it is soon that her jagged and pervasive creation will consume her in its light coaxing oblivion. Above her it pulses and glows, gentle but insufferable. She lets it nearly take her, thoughtless.
And from that vast nothingness, something catches her eye.
Distinction alone breaks her from the lull of uniformity, and her gaze swings to it: a single, special piece of glass, just a bit red, and absolutely noticeable. Perhaps in reality or through a trick of her mind, the rest of the sky that it begins emerging from dulls in its intensity. She thinks, it’s becoming easier to see. She thinks, and realizes she hasn’t thought at all in ages.
The heavens wobble and distort, and a crack seems to run through them, the whole thing twisting around the creation of a new memory: a shard of memory that should not exist. It breaks from the whole, and breaks the sky.
Both violently and calmly the roof of her making falls down, choking the air in scattering light. The spectacle would be magnificent to her, but she remains stuck on the newest piece, which floats toward her amidst the frightening chaos of joyous memories.
It, too, is a memory of joy: that of herself that she has forgotten.
“When was— Did I—?”
She speaks in a fractured voice, her vocal chords having been long neglected of use.
Now in her hands, the odd shard that came from zero revolves, and in it she sees the time when she awoke, dancing alongside glass, traveling the mirror world, and happy. Tears fall from her eyes, and she remembers that happiness left her long ago.
Enjoy this weirdly rhythmic track. 😉
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