they came dancing into the lonely spotlight and were suddenly apart. the whole circus, alone.
he from then wore a cape. from then he was a noble. separate from all others.
the shows were as good, maybe, the seating sometime better even. such an odd mystic fable though, this solitude.
the mage , the scribe, focused on the losses because their accounting was more provocative. she was as fascinated by the cleanest breeze, or more so.
when the tent shriveled from the luminescence and the new mothers diffused the spotlight, there there was an encouraging blur, there were.
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