It reminded her of an unpopular child, forlorn and bewildered, powerless to alter its fate.

The orange flames waved at the crowd as paper and print dissolved inside of them.

It waltzed through the window with the draft. Perhaps it was the breeze of the Third Reich...

...it fell across them as their metallic eyes clashed like tin cans in the kitchen.

Liesel was a girl made of darkness.

Both he and the paint fumes turned around.

The flag trundled from the ledge like washing hung out to dry.

The sky was crouching.

His face wore a helpless expression beneath his tangled blond hair. An animal. Not a deer in lights...He was just an animal hurt among the melee...