Ready to be turned. To begin again. Another turn at the fabric of life…fragile though its stitches be. She held up the tiny dress. It was so small. ...o impossibly small. Like the doll dresses that Nana had made for her at that ancient machine. But Nana was gone. Had been gone for over twenty years. A life time. An eternity…or so it seemed. She picked up a pink bow and sewed it about the tiny hole where the neck would be. She fiddled with it for several impossibly long moments. It had to be. Coming from a very conservative catholic family I was sheltered from anything obscene. I was as innocent as innocence could ever be. Three minutes from when I logged in plenty of windows start popping with questions about my age, or my location, which I ignored because I wasn't so sure if that was the right place to be. Yet one window had a different message in it: "Ignore them all I am the one you came here for." I felt intrigued to know who that boy was. "Hi" I replied, as I noticed his. More

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