[ she looks around--at this idealized (yes, you read that right) space of hers, everything she already had and lost. her trinkets. her books. her phonograph. the divan from her grandfather's house and the star charts from Teaferth stencilled on the ceiling. all of it hers, though none of it gets to come with her again. ]
no subject
It's... it doesn't matter. It all already burned.