...and she lifts her head up ever, so slowly. Looking around, she evaluates the damage that has occurred. Is it too much to internalize? That is all she does. Internalize, analyze and judge. How can judgment be made by me, myself and I, she asks? Who is there to listen to the internal rumblings of a woman who can no longer accept the status quo? Her head is heavy, her heart is heavy, her soul is muddled. Only three people listen.
As she maneuvers through the meteorites of an unknown world, its like a Star Wars prequel in her universe. She must revert back to a time when the universe around her was readable.
A space where yesterday was but a nostalgic reminder of what can never be again. Repeatable. She cannot depend on time that ceases to be remembered. Is she enveloping a new universe? Must she mold it into a wondrous time that is yet to occur?
She looks out from her mind's eye and waits for a sign.
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