Finale.

Somewhere in the horizon a big, blinding sun rose and swathed every memory leaving a warm, summery feeling at the corners of her eyes - waking up to the evenings cool everything gets washed away. One-two-three and the windows open slowly preparing for Her esteemed final entrance. On top, from where everything blink-blinks like infinity she stretches Her arms and Her dark skin prickles with pleasure. Of all the words She could say Her last would be a sound of ecstasy that circles Her in a halo. And like any B-grade movie star worth her name, Her Grace swoons, circling Herself twice and jumps without a parting scene.

Abruptness is the quality of pauses…

And peace be that of splotches of red that enter the crevices of the white-ridge tiles.