4215.
Loneliness is brutal - it is not the silence that cuts through your glass heart or the darkness that cripples your vision. When you are alone, in the solace of your worst fears, you know you cannot sink any further.
But you are with company.
And oh how you love them. Those panels in the glass house that holds your treasured kaleidoscope - beautiful. Their flowing hair, the jewel eyes, the delicate skin - each was an artist's best work; each was a flawless Mona Lisa. Transcendent. Sublime.
All but one, for in the far end of the room was the ugliest, most hideous thing, chewing on the locks of her hair and staring about with her huge brooding eyes. And you think upon the insult imposed by this ugliness in the presence of all this beauty.
You come closer. And you taste salt on your lips as you touch the cold, hard glass.
All of a sudden you remember that kaleidoscopes work with reflections.
But you are with company.
And oh how you love them. Those panels in the glass house that holds your treasured kaleidoscope - beautiful. Their flowing hair, the jewel eyes, the delicate skin - each was an artist's best work; each was a flawless Mona Lisa. Transcendent. Sublime.
All but one, for in the far end of the room was the ugliest, most hideous thing, chewing on the locks of her hair and staring about with her huge brooding eyes. And you think upon the insult imposed by this ugliness in the presence of all this beauty.
You come closer. And you taste salt on your lips as you touch the cold, hard glass.
All of a sudden you remember that kaleidoscopes work with reflections.
