With childlike wonder, she marveled at the Rockwellian surroundings never recalling the sky being that particular color before. (127)
The purple and emerald rains had washed the city making it vaguely unfamiliar though she thought she knew where she was. (120)
In awe, strangers reverently heaped praise, adoration and promises of eternal service on her to her growing discomfort and confusion. (133)
Others spoke to her with conspiratorial familiarity, pressing her for information and secrets that weren’t hers to give. (120)
Worried, she disappeared into the night to protect those she loved hiding in unlikely places as she waited for dawn. (116)
Voices whispered suggestions from the shadows – “drink that, hide here, cut off that lovely hair or better yet, cut off that finger.” (133)
Daylight came and went and peculiar people gave and took what they wanted as her heart and mind called for rescue from this strange place. (137)
While she waited for her hero, she danced on the fringe of her own sanity beneath the Sirius moonlight. Or, was it just a dream? (128)
“I’ll have the peach milk,” she told the server days later as she fingered the remains of her once long hair, “with a side of reality.” (135)
(Note: This is a compilation of individual tweets – 140 characters or less – woven together into a micro-flash fiction.)