Prologue
I remember catching her hazel eyes glaring upon me like two seeds planted in the middle of a fleshy bronze plate, shades of pink sprayed over and underneath her blending cheek-bones, the color of treacle infused with sparkles ornamented wires of Ariane which burgeoned to infinity in order to half-circle the figure of a mad angel; an orange glow emanating from a street light staring above us completed this soothing yet destabilizing frame from outerspace... Her sudden change in emotion display struck me the moment my lids retracted; what began with a disturbingly fierce look turned into a soft, compassionate reassurance that someone was here to watch over my well-being.
After further inspection through my cranial wounds, she uttered the following words:
“Those on top matter the most”.
I recall the rest as a misty, luminescent blur simply doubled in intensity by numerous fairy fingers sensibly travelling atop the broad surface of my skull...
