In the end, it all comes down to glass. Smooth, slippery, cold. Glass against my fingertips, my cheeks, my breasts; glass beneath my bare feet gliding in an eternal glissade. Sliding is so easy, slithering, slipping, swimming the slick, forever flow of glass; aching for the inexpressible crunch of relief when it all finally
Shatters.
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My eyes slid and slithered, slickly tripping down this screen to the marvelous conclusion.
Oh, shatter my illusions anytime you please!
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