The Creature lies curled up on the regal burnt orange leather armchair and sighs at the trivial world around. Her eye lashes flutter ever so slightly as her eyes shut magnetically. A mild quiver as she transits. Rise and fall. Rise and fall. Rise. And. Fall. Rise.. And.. Fall.. Her arm falls over the side the chair, limp.
A clumsy shuffle elsewhere. Papers fly around as the elctricity returns.
One eyelash flutters. A live marble appears. Glint.
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1 comment:
Like that last line.
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