The shrapnel studded her body like a sequenced dress, yet she sashayed through the smoke and rubble as if the smoldering remains of the town that surrounded her were a field of daffodils. Her brown eyes blazed for a moment and she paused as if she were trying to take in the reality of her paradise; and at that very moment a blaze of fire and metal crash landed in front of her and she bowed coyly to the bubbling and charred remains of what had been its unfortunate passengers.
She pranced around it and had anyone been around to be horrified, they wouldn’t have cared less as they watched her perform falaccio on the nearest gas spigot and light the copious amounts of liquid, which to the dismay of all life in a twenty foot radius was set free from her esophagus. Such a spectacle was child’s play in comparison to the mayhem that she had caused with the power lines, which could be found flailing violently throughout the town.
Yes, there was no doubt that she had she had fallen by the wayside of the principles that had previously bound her as the den mother of her nephews Cub Scout troup.
I could speculate on the cause of the madness that birthed her thirst for destruction, however I will leave her to it for the moment so that I may focus on more a more pleasant topic, as I fear I may be one of the responsible parties for our Isabel’s unfortunate new disposition.