Minutes sped by like hours. Little legged flecks flitted off and on everyone's hairs and skin.

Light by blinding light sparked strobed crackled like falling up to Michael and the face of Saint Peter and glory.

Caught up in the heart of the parade fireworks setting off palms waving hearts struck drums beating

And there it was.

That silk lace. That wave, those gloves.
That
damn
smile,
irradiant
knowledgeable.

Eyes of pitch dark ebony burst with naïve star-flame. The agatine crown commanded grace, gravity; the margaric throne sensuality, distance, disinterest. And the locks of her hair fluid and scintillating each one so alive—!
She was the definition of flawless