cinderelle wasted her fairymother on boys

so scatterbrained, dropped the box with all its pieces, memories splashing on the floor, red.

My days of late have been fraught with unexpected tensions – I only wish to be elsewhere. Somewhere with sun and music to dance to. Today I met my mother near where we used to live. I thought it might mean something to me, but it didn’t. Lost in a closed restaraunt, I felt momentarily trapped by fashionable dining, the words on the menu without sense. Letters grouped randomly, conversation repeatable. Talk on relationships – loop – repeat.
Afterwards, we went to Granville to fetch the boy. He’s looking far less jagged lately – apparently my fault. The blood was unexpected, but only startled strangers. To be cruel I could say that if I had that face, I would wish to tear it off too, but it wouldn’t be true, only biting.
Downtown there were problems with the money machines. Nothing for me, though I’d just fed it. Tomorrow I face the dragon and yank out it’s pearl teeth for groceries and gain. Not enough for the pretties I tried on today, but enough for nothing else. Bryans is a dress shop where they fit tham for humans, and the downtown outlet is closing. We wandered by on our way to somewhere else and Robin pointed a plume of shine out to me. We were sucked in. Satin and brocade and hung on a hanger happiness.

I feel so much lighter when I have a moment in a pretty dress, do you think perhaps that if women went into battle in gowns, they would do better? I think I might. Dressed to kill – my knife with a sequined handle.

The boy startled when I came from the changeroom. He had insisted, and I wasn’t feeling to argue. The room stopped and I tried not to notice, heatflushing through – then the mirror.
Depression can be bought so easily occasionally, its fear of coin amusing. I haven’t enough, sadly, for this. I haven’t any at this time. For an unholy hundred I could smile twice or even once for half. I haven’t a fifty, so I suppose I’ll stay at six.