Poor little lost girl. The brightness is gone. No more green and gold, they've been replaced by greys and blues. She's been abandoned, cut off from her final connection to the world outside. She has no one to tie her to the earth. And so she floats among the rain clouds and looks down at all the people holding hands and being human, and she cries, and the clouds cry with her. She cries and the heavens pour out over the people who run and jump and dance at their luck and prosperity. They'll never know what was sacrificed from them to bring such good fortune. Poor little lost girl drifting alone through the air, she knows that if she could just touch down she would be connected again, she could feel her heartbeat again and everything would be fine. But she can't reach the ground and no one is paying enough attention to know that she needs to be plucked from the sky. There is no one willing to climb up and pull her down from between the burning stars. Poor little lost girl.