Sailing swiftly down sidewalks, she silently studied her sensibilities. Startled by streaking cats shrieking sparrows, and the sounds of soaring 'simple machines' (not so simple anymore). Stopping to sit on a stoop, she swam visually through the slithers of silver sliding over the surface of the side of a settling steeple. A seemingly sudden stream of something unknown swept across shards of stained glass, staining symbols of what once was. Soon enough the substance saturated her size six shoe ships, submerging sleepy sailors.
Seeking something substantial, she stared at her sinking soldiers and sighed, shuddering at the sound of her own exhalation. As the wind sang softly, she felt her breath was strangely out of sync. It felt like suffocating smoke, silkily seducing the alarm, triggering the sirens, softening the songs of the atmosphere, stifling them into silence.
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