Your father and mother watch, you can only dance as the strings pull, it is not you that decides the strength of the force or the tension on the string, it is not you decides the order, the sequence of events, how the strings attached themselves to you, or what your heart moved for, as the cookie crumbles, and the strings unravel, it can only happen in one way, under order, as it was built, and it crumbles the same way, suddenly you’re naked, your heart bare, and beating, the song completes, and you can only stare, yearning deep within, for the strings to pull, and to dance once again…

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.