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Once there was a little girl who had a white paper crown. She would wear her crown and she would wear her dress and she would dance in her room for hours. She would spin in circles, losing track of time and imagination. But sometimes she would spin too fast, and the white paper crown would slip over her brow, and fly off her head to land somewhere in her room. One day when this happened, she didn't stop dancing, didn't stop dreaming, didn't notice the crown had landed on the hearth, and was now burning in the spaces between the ashes of the fire, it's white now a muddy, smudged gray.
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Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
In the Spaces Between
Once there was a little girl who had a white paper crown. She would wear her crown and she would wear her dress and she would dance in her room for hours. She would spin in circles, losing track of time and imagination. But sometimes she would spin too fast, and the white paper crown would slip over her brow, and fly off her head to land somewhere in her room. One day when this happened, she didn't stop dancing, didn't stop dreaming, didn't notice the crown had landed on the hearth, and was now burning in the spaces between the ashes of the fire, it's white now a muddy, smudged gray.
kestrel
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Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
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