// think of the sun that shaped them //
Beginning to cut along her bold, charcoaled lines, Lena took her time, careful and scrupulous, detailed and attentive. The vigilance paid off on the first slashes of the scissors, able to peel away the fabric to show the little embedded and embossed portions of makeshift embers and flames. Pleased with this, she persisted, eyes narrowing as if lives were on the line, instead of a dinner choice.
As for the question, she snickered. “We’ll certainly need someone impartial.” Unfortunately, no one else was actually around to give said opinion, unless they bothered and harassed someone nearby on the streets. “How about Mittens?” She winked again, uncertain if the snowball could really be labeled as unbiased or detached, wrinkling her nose before returning to the cloth, driven to win.
As for the question, she snickered. “We’ll certainly need someone impartial.” Unfortunately, no one else was actually around to give said opinion, unless they bothered and harassed someone nearby on the streets. “How about Mittens?” She winked again, uncertain if the snowball could really be labeled as unbiased or detached, wrinkling her nose before returning to the cloth, driven to win.
Lena
// the speck of truth that's ours //
