Embers danced off of the vaulted ceiling, and the scholar found themself in the center of the library, on the very first floor.
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This story is about a lot of things. Haring’s work is particularly impressive in its flexibility- the simplicity of a lot of his pieces lets them represent a wide range of human emotions and experiences. I had one thing in particular in mind when I wrote this, but it’s malleable. Do with these words what you will and be nice to them and yourself and others. And all the millions who are not around anymore and all the millions who are not around yet.
“But the Monarch? Alas, the Monarch sat alone on the cold stone floor, their flowing robes covering the entire chancel. They ran their hand along the fine fur that kept them warm through so many winters and unnecessarily made them boil through so many ceremonies. All snow white with black spots.”
