The material slipped seamlessly through her fingers. Just as the final sands slipped from the top of the hour glass. Pooled at the bottom. 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. So 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. She planted her foot solidly on his chest and stared at him. Roban understood what she wanted. He took a firm hold of the heel and Athea slipped out of the boot. The process was repeated for the left boot before Athea turned and sashayed her way to the excited Denyssa.On her slow walk she took hold of the hem of her shirt in a cross-grip and seemed to pull it carelessly over her head and off. She threw the shirt back over her shoulder and Roban let it hit him straight in the face, without even. More

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