And each day she wept a little more, revealing that there was not even a flicker of her former self.
She was made new, but for what purpose? Only time knew and it wasn't telling its secrets.
The heavens sang to her, but now like screeching seagulls fighting over scraps of food, rather than the harmonious tinkling of bells she had heard long before.
Her heart flooded with emotions, each one more passionate and sorrowful than the last. Her hair hung against her face:
matted, dirty, frayed… It mirrored her soul.
She knew in the end her diligence would be rewarded, but in what way and how long would it take? She wasn't sure if she felt like guessing,
She was going to take her future into her own hands, even if it meant the end of her. She couldn't stand by and morosely comply
her own passivity.
She had to break the bonds she had formed around her feet and hands. She had to fight against all she had built around herself. She had to break free and make something