The tiny spheres of liquid licked the etched glass on the front side of the home. The atmosphere's magic continued to descend until all was caressed in precipitation. Here and there tongues zipped out, pleading for a moment of delight. To behold a tiny morsel of the magic was an enticement for each taste bud. The smell of this magic danced around the noses of others and pleased the nostrils with their whimsical movements.

     The magic spilled like love that pours from adolescent hearts, like the bloodshed of the innocent during battle. The magic grew in ferocity, casting it’s gray entrails over the city. The dance became a march- fast, rhythmical, and destructive. Prepared to fight for their creators, the two paired quickly into an assembly of erotic destruction. The magic swept feverishly, the dance heaving around relentlessly.

    And then warmth. A glowing molten star had ceased the dance, silenced the magic, and wrapped it’s arms around the city in a steamy embrace. The magic began to cry, and the dance fled before the lava could deliquesce the beating organs it withheld. But the star won over the magic's affection and the two collided into a lustrous haze of brilliant and infused shades.