I don't own HP.
My first 100-word drabble! Just came into my head one night when I was supposed to be studying.... = /
The sunlight dances around her shoulders, suffusing all with vitality. She laughs; the sound is that of a choir of angels.
That's what she is, really: an angel. I know it's trite, cliché. But that doesn't stop it from being true. An angel—casting aside gossamer garments for more worldly stuff, wriggling her toes in cool spring grass instead of fluffy clouds and golden-paved streets.
She has not left Heaven, but instead has brought it down to Earth with her. It follows wherever she goes.
If only I could follow, too.
But I guess people like me
don't deserve
Heaven.
Review?? = )