Because in the end, most of life is just making a mess and then telling everyone you meant to do that.
The room was silent, save for the rhythmic tick-tock, tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the corner. It was a heavy, oppressive sound, each click marking a moment that was lost forever. Elara sat before the antique vanity, the silver-handled brush in her hand hovering mid-air. quack preap