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Night Sky

Alone on the cold white plateau, she dances across the landscape. One stride covers miles, but her giant frame doesn't hinder her grace, and she leaves only shallow footprints in the snow. The horizon bisects her vision - black above, white below.

The night sky is a jet curtain, stretched taught beneath the heavens.  She reaches up and plucks a star from the dark softness. It's as big as her fist and cold as a diamond. She turns it this way and that - lights sparkling in the centre as they catch the soft white glow from the snow underfoot.

Frost burns her fingers and she pushes the stolen star into the void in her chest. It fits perfectly.

(c) Kate Rontree 2002