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This is going to turn into a scene where the room swirls around a solitary motionless figure, lights glinting and spinning, blurred faces laughing maniacally. I can see it, her future, wasted stumbling feet no longer able to walk that narrow line beside a road filled with broken glass. She falls, her knees hitting the pavement followed by the side of her face, shards once so tiny now looming large then piercing skin in a thousand exquisite cuts. She stands, inexplicably whole, the streetlight refracting yellow rays from her embellished form. Somehow rising victorious, resilient, undaunted, she is beautiful beyond belief. From then on, she haunts midnight streets a beacon, a glittering goddess, untouchable. Nocturnal by necessity, she must avoid the rays of light that burn when reflected from her mirrored coating. At night, now, she reigns- the glass queen- solitary, immortal, doomed to endless beauty and incessant pain.