Careful so as to avoid stepping on (fragile) moonlight that shines on the finely polished parquet, the only thing she bothered reacting to. Hopping across and a slight hint of startle, that was all the energy she had left to spare.
“Everybody wears a mask.” Looking around her, she exhales, followed by inhaling an immense amount of details of her surroundings – people, everywhere. but people meant trouble: more often than not. And yet she herself was one, perhaps a wreck. The mask she wore was her sanity, a tightly pulled one at the edges: just so her smile turns out perfect and tightly clinging around the edge. Just as the tension begins to crush the insights of her mask, the chipped edges bite into her skin too. The uncertainty that lingers – could this mask hold for another day? How much more could it handle? each day that pass – it disintegrates a little.
Yet she would never know, for each time she thinks (and overthinks) about it, these thoughts would be an excuse for her to unlock the portal for her to escape.
The cost of oblivious daydreaming was always this moment of return, the realignment with what had been before and now seemed a little worse. Her reverie, once rich in plausible details, had become a passing silliness before the hard mass of the actual. It was difficult to come back.