She had always enjoyed listening to stories. Anything that was removed from her reality was her fodder to chomp on. Her life, she thought, tasted like the paper of the books she read: vapid. Until one day, she tasted something more than that. It was sweet in her mouth. And soft. And full. Shockingly so. For had she savored some of that real world without being intoxicated and roused, she wouldn’t have been able to completely understand, later, that she was capable of creating her own paradise.
:)
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