Ginger Would Use These Images.

Ginger would use these images.

There is not enough love for Toni Fortnite.

Ok thats all goodbye

I don't even wanna

im getting this shirt for christmas what do u guys think

Ginger or Something.

Day One: The Girl in White

The girl in the woods was caught in the snare.

So she pulled herself free, and left her shadow bound.

In the forest she wandered, a splash of color between the slate gray trees. Her home was somewhere far behind her, so she made the woods her home. The forest sheltered her, offering herbs to cure her ills and fruit to fill her belly.

She saw her shadow, white dress stained red, watching her from a field of wildflowers. Petals and polled drifted past hard black eyes. Accusatory. Fixed.

One day, wandering through brittle grasses, searching for the clues the forest had laid out for her, the road revealed itself to her.

A wide and unpretentious dirt path, lined on either side with dew-dappled wildflowers that glistened in the bright morning sun. Down one way, a small island cottage. Down the other, a city, vast and strange.

A city that had not been there when the girl first entered the woods.

How long had she been in the woods, wandering overgrown dales and fleeing her red-stained shadow? Was there anyone left, in the world beyond, who remembered her? Who would take her in their arms and kiss her hair and say I always knew I’d see you again?

Empires of steel and concrete had grown over the bones of villages, burying the memory of the cottages and farmlands of long-ago years.

She stood on the path and looked upon the unfamiliar city. She turned to look upon the cottage, the forest, the path.

Above, the sky was vast and cloudless.

Nervously, she stepped onto the path. The flowers seemed to beam at her. She stood there, picturing a crossroads. There lay the city, foreign to her. Full of fear, and possibility. There lay the cottage, charming and cozy, and yet something seemed to snarl and salivate within the white painted walls.

To her back, the forest. Beneath her feet, the path.

Her feet moved in no direction at all.

Where to wander? Where to seek? Where to run?

What did she hope to find? What did she hope to flee?

She moved, with slow and delicate steps, toward the city wondering about the people there.

But as she did, she pictured the shadow.

Hers.

Bound, and lost, and furious.

And scared.

She stopped, and turned back to the woods, where the echo of her, she knew, waited in the snare. Fashioning snares of her own, now.

She could leave the woods, flit like a firefly from place to place. But she wouldn't truly be gone from this place.

Not while her shadow remained.

She turned from the path, feeling the coolness of shadows on her back as she slipped between the trees. There was a teddy bear in the woods, two halves, each with a full, ragged head, clumsily stitched together.

She walked to the place where the snare still lay, wondering how a lost thing could be found.

Wondering how a broken thing could be made whole.