Theories of Relativity

The gentle padding of her toes protected only by lightly-knitted scarlet socks upon damp stones echoed lightly into the crystal waters, which rippled delicately as she breezed past the creek and set foot upon dusty ground again, pivoting gracefully and brushing past the cherry trees, blossoms trailing lethargically after her.  Singing-birds poured their hearts into the air as the sun smiled brightly at her, teasing her behind vibrant trees and distant meadows, each flaunting a different shade of a deep, definite colour, tantalizing in its own rich and profound way.  Taking no note of it, she came to an abrupt halt at an alter lined with ebony trimmings, embedded with sapphires and emeralds, gleaming brilliantly in every angle of the light.  She lowered one knee and knelt to the shrine, fingers groping around the corner of the bottom stair, finally finding the loose edge and lifting it up slowly.  Idly edging her hand into the crevasse, she pulled out a tattered photograph.  Placidly, her lips pursed and she blew the dust and cobwebs from the picture to reveal a savage sepia cityscape, complete with billowing smokestacks, grime thick in the creases of the cobblestone streets, and a desolate man with arms flung around a street-lamp, tearstains prominent on his cheeks and a sense of hopelessness clinging to every detail of his being.  "Beautiful," she sighed wistfully into the cool air, quickly replacing the photo, rising, and wandering into her meaningless setting sun.1