Of Perfection

by Ichigo Morino

Of the passage of beauty. Of artists...and their art. (extremely short, knowledge of the Little Garden arc would benefit)

Disclaimer: I own nothing besides this very keyboard and my brain (idea included). If you wish to worship someone, bow before Oda-sensei.

Notes: It'd be nice if you've seen up to the Little Garden arc, just for the sake of complete understanding. This is so pathetically short, I'm almost appalled, but I give it to you nonetheless.

Of Perfection

By Ichigo Morino (11.5.03)

Every day she would sit and drink tea beneath the shade of the trees.

Her eyes shone with mahogany, orange, and gold.

Every day she would smile pleasantly at all that looked upon her.

Her long locks shone brilliantly with golds and yellows, as if the sun's very rays had been caught within her hair.

Every day she would laugh beneath the clear sky.

Her delicate eyelashes would flutter gently.

Her hair would dance.

Her cheeks would blush softly.

Her small lips would smile.

Every day she seemed happy.

She lived in the best of all worlds.

She had no worries. No sorrows.

She was beauty itself.

She was perfection.

But all artists grow to dislike old works, it is in the nature of things. Nothing is perfect forever. Eventually beauty grows old and ugly, replaced by a greater goal.

A new idea.

For Mr. 3 and Miss Golden Week, now was such a time. She was perfection and beauty no longer. She was boring.

So they did away with their wax doll.

It was time for a new idea.

~ Owari ~