She was only six, but she knew just what she wanted. She sat in the middle of her glass box and got to work, building the world that would be her. She adorned her box with strings of happiness, stars of love and fairy lights, brilliant. Her ideas, dreams, and thoughts floated around the roof of the box, sometimes slipping out through the edges. But they always made their way back to her. The walls of her box, which she had painted orange, fuchsia and bright red, peeked through her shiny curls. Curls that framed her cherubic features. Not yet beautiful, but endearing, nonetheless. If she did this right, life within this box could be perfect. Spectacular, even. Just like her black sparkles which showed themselves only when the light played with them and twinkled in a certain way.
There were five corners in her box, each one a small, dark pocket, of a different hue. She loved the corners just as much as she loved her light and her colors. She kept a different ornament in each corner. In one corner was a bowl. An intricately carved fish bowl, with tiny little tears, in place of fish, swimming round in circles. Another corner held a doll; a mirror image of herself, only a little prettier, a little brighter, a little more inspired. The third corner, the one she rarely visited, held the scroll of parchment, in a wooden, square box. Endless as it was, the document held all the names of all the people she knew and loved. Every time she visited the corner, one by one each name would be ruthlessly rubbed out till the parchment was left blank. The names would reappear after a while but only to be erased once again (over and over again). In the next corner she kept a little porcelain dragon. Painted so faithfully, that if you held it too close you could almost feel the burn, from the fire it breathed. The fifth corner, the final and darkest, was fitted with the world's strongest steel vault and in it, cushioned in a custom made velvet pouch, laid her heart. Her box complete, she looked around at her handiwork with pride. Everything in place; everything perfect. Slowly, she got up from the center of the box and made her way to the tiny opening on the outer most wall. She then bent down, squeezed herself into a speck and crawled out of the box. Once outside, the little girl with the shiny curls, walked away. Looking back but once.

23.08.05-24.08.05

3:55pm