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→ ｇｒａｃｅ ｊｏｎｅｓ , || ｐｒｅｓｓｕｒｅｄ. ||
It was such a wonderful feeling, walking through this wide and high cavern, not feeling cold at all. Of course, the land beyond the mirror isn't always nice and charming to her. She's seen killing, believed she herself would scream to death when falling off a cliff, and even had her heart broken. Now, it was the beautiful lapse when she forgot she was not dreaming, or rather, she didn't care about this fact anymore for a while. Outside, it rained, and tall trees stood in front of her.
Behind a tree, Michelle's head appeared. She was a girl from her ballet classes, perhaps a bit too chubby to ever aspire to perform that dance perfectly. «Well, you're no white swan either, be polite, say hi». So she got closer to that girl, who awaited for Grace with an expecting gaze.
“Hullo, Michelle, what brings you here?” the brunette asked friendly. “I've kissed someone”, the blonde confessed. “Kissed?!” Grace asked incredulously, her tone a little too sharp, unfortunately. In her eyes, her dancing partner was not the goddess Aphrodite, but Ugly Betty, not much more than that. “Well, yes-” the other replied in a defiant tone. “-I'm kissing Paul right now, so you might as well leave me alone.”
Poor Gracie watched as her admired secret crush held the big blonde in his arms and both joined their mouths happily. She turned away and ran deep into the forest. «I must hide from them! I can't bear to see them!», she thought desperately as bitter tears stung her eyes and ran down her cheeks. Sometimes the land beyond the mirror had her heart broken.
As if she had just woken up, she forgot all that had just happened. Before her a thin and quiet stream flowed, dividing the woods. On the top of her head, a reddish-brown squirrel with a purple striped tail and short teeth sniffed the air. The girl took its presence for granted, until she set it down on her palm and stroked his head. She knew who it was, and it knew who she was. “Where to now, Whoop? Where to go?” She could walk back to where she had come from in the first place, all over again, or she could try to cross the stream, to find more forest then.
Whoop was waiting for her at the other side of the stream. Grace didn't wonder about how it had arrived there, and she let out a snorty laugh. “Now, Whoopie dear, seriously, what if there are dangers in there?” she asked the rodent, as she stepped down onto the water where it was most shallow. She saw she had got wet up to her knees when she came out of the stream. One of a tree's knotted roots read: «play». Instinctively Gracie pressed on a knot, and a fragment of John Lennon's “Happy Xmas” was heard. The sensitive brunette grinned and continued her way into the woods, humming, yet singing the “War is over!” bits with special emphasis.