It can take years to mold a dream. It takes only a fraction of a second for it to be shattered.

Multiple closets for different needs. Overkill.

Pieces. A bit for someone here. A bit there. And sometimes they don't add up to anything whole. But you are so busy dancing. Delivering. You don't have time to notice. Or are afraid to notice. And then one day you have to look. And it's true. All of your pieces fill up other people's holes. But they don't fill your own.

One small changed family doesn't calculate into a world that has been spinning for a billion years. But one small change makes the world spin differently in a billion ways for one family.

...and time becomes a forgotten detail.

Maybe staying on the surface keeps her from returning to a place where she can't breathe.

When is a cell finally too small to hold our essence?