Her skin was dark, and her ringlet curls were not much darker. With a sigh, she tucked her cold hands into her sports hoodie.
"Well,"' she pondered out loud, "I wonder why that kid's dreams are always random and never symbolic." Looking up to the sky that melted into grape juice, her big eyes reflected that numbness.
She could almost taste the halted sunset, like the dragon's breath delicacy. "She's been really jealous of them all this time," Her asymmetrical face felt cold to her own hands.
And with the conclusion to her solitary two-minute long speech, she exhaled. "Be jealous if you want. It doesn't help anyone."