oh dear god. I wrote. like. actually wrote something fictional. Shoot me now, the new allergy meds are making me lose all normal function.
so. Flame away! Though constructive criticism is pretty helpful as well, as I think this is pretty cruddy, but the traitorous logic went, "well dummy, actually share something with other people for once in your nineteen years on this planet." and here we are!


Title: Waltz in C Minor
Gen
Any age
86 words
Notes: um. No copyright infringement? Though I don't even know if it's considered fanfic as it's pretty damn open-ended. Wellllll here goes nothing.

She’s hypnotically waltzing. Floating above the unanchored ground, swirling to three uneven beats, binding herself in a continuous melody of delusion and fantasy. She waltzes in her own glass box.

He’s blindly wishing. Unseeing her ghostly body shuffle over cold tiles, unwanting her slips of silvery foil digging into his clenched hands, unsaying his whispered farewells as she stares with blank eyes. He wishes for the butterfly to emerge from its opaque cocoon to dance in the flowers.

Instead, he watches her dance towards her eulogy.