I named her: I like to call her Dg, because it was a name that was only on the mind. I stated her probalbe vanity forgetting about rings and bracelets over the ledge, constantly but secretly spying her attitude. At one time I thought she would adorn herself with the jewels but she just looked at then and did not touched, like a distrust spider; and eventhough once she came to wear an amethist rung for an instant, she quickly put it away like it burned her. While she was away I hurried and hid the jewels and then noticed that she was happier.

The the seasons declined, some loosened and others tight with purple lights, without her precious calls reaxh our aspects. The hand would return every evening, wet from the autum rain, and I would see her lying with her back on the floor prolix drying each finger, sometimes with small jumps signifying her satisfaction. Her shadow would cover in purple during the evenings. I would then put a fire on my feet and she would curl up and hardly stirr but exept to receive an album of prints from a cotton ball that she liked to tie and twst. I found out she was unable to remain calmed for a long time. One day she found a trugh with clay and rushed to it, hours and hours she modeled the clay while I on my back pretended no to worry about what she was doing. Naturally she made a hand. I let it dry and laid it on the desk to prove to her that I liked her model. It was an error: Dg ended upset for the thought of the rigid and conbulsive.