The sublime observer



It was a beautiful day, with only a light breeze to breathe. The passersby took no heed of the young, but gorgeous woman with her chin held high and her hips swung from side to side as she walked, her breasts hanging freely. The woman wore a skin-tight dress of green, skin-tight, opaque, with a low-cut neckline, and just as she walked with head held high as she had burnt paths on the way there with her heels, so she came walking quickly back home.

She walked on the smooth, immaculate marble in the lobby, excitedly, and, finally, she took the elevator, smiling, nodding to the mirrored walls. The wide and new elevator doors slid open smoothly up on the first floor, and she walked out, looking around.

This building was rich and new, with glossy glass and gleaming marble. This was a symbol of what she hoped to become when she got older, she couldn't wait to get in and live here. The floor moved, and she almost ran down the hallway on her toes. She walked into her luxurious second- and third-floor apartment, the doors slid open, and she walked in, grinning, and waving to the room.

She walked in and was so impressed. The living room was bigger than her whole apartment, with a huge screen playing Netflix on one of the walls. The floor and walls were purely, but richly, purple, and she loved it. She always enjoyed purple. Her skirt rustled as she paced the floor.

She flicked on the heater and sighed with pleasure. "So good to be home." She sighed. "I love this place," she said, as she stalked back and forth.

She walked pattern after pattern, passing by the fridge, passed by the large glass table, up and down the floor. She opened the door and took a sip from the cold, excellent red wine, felt it flow down her throat, and she grabbed a few grapes from a small bowl and bit into them, the juices divided the two sides of her mouth. She wiped her mouth and yawned, long and terribly loud, a yawn such as she had never, ever done before.

"Wow," she muttered. She grabbed the bottle and walked into her bathroom.

The shower was cold and she sighed. Why did she take a shower then? She shrugged, turned on the hot water and hoped it was warmer than the outside temperature.

She grabbed her razor and tossed in a few new, uncut razorblades. She started to shave, but the long strands of the razor made her legs and arms look so much thinner than they were. She motioned with her hands and the mirrors turned black. She giggled, put down the razor, and grabbed her body wash. The water ran onto her pale and tiny breasts, ran down her long and blonde hair, glided down her body, and the hair on the top of her legs turned into a light blonde. She shivered.

She turned on the heat again and grabbed a towel, drying herself first and then wrapped it loosely around herself. She grabbed her white robe, which was long and elegant, and pulled it on. She grabbed her hairbrush, silky soft and rounded, as she always did. She brushed her hair and let it fall down her and combed it with her fingertips. She turned on the TV and froze at the way it looked. It was still playing Netflix, and it showed an episode of the funniest show she had seen. She grinned and laughed out loud, covering her mouth. Her laugh was so long and sweet.

She swung open the door, grabbed the bag of chips, and closed and locked the door, peeking to make sure there was no one in the hallway, and then laughing again. No one would suspect her of anything. Only her legs killing her would make someone think that she had been out on a lengthy walk.

"Hi, hello, hello," she said to the bag of chips, and laughed. She ate a few more of the chips, salivating and swallowing, and playing with the salt. She washed a few small bits of salt off her fingers and then licked her fingers clean.

She walked as fast as she could, grabbing everything she could carry. She couldn't run. Running would make her look suspicious, and the thought scared her.

She walked down the hallway, ran down the stairs, and then, with a swift turn she ran down the park, towards the river that was on the furthest edge of the park. She kept turning, her dress flowing behind. She turned again, walking along the river. She felt warm and yet cold, as if she had found an ice-cold drink.

"I want to run, I want to run," she said, louder, to herself. She felt what seemed like a wink, a squeeze, and ran as fast as she could. She heard a soft "faster, faster" behind her and she ran away, limping slightly on her right foot. Her right foot was just shattered and would break again in time, but only if she ran. Her left foot, however, was perfectly okay.

She ran away and nodded. She was safe. "This is fine. This is fine. This is fine," she said again, repeating these three simple words until she fell into a field, gasping. "This is fine," she repeated again, smiling, and she smiled because the world was white and spinning and she didn't feel the cold and her body had calmed down. She stood, but just held onto the stone, gasping for air, she held onto the stone because if she dropped it she would trip and fall.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she whispered, she closed her eyes and threw up, she sobbed and threw up some more. She vomited, her stomach cramping, until she had nothing left.


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