Christina Stark. Wings (№ 255237)

I lie in a wet red to pay under the counter. Red suits me, no doubt. But it's the hue of the dress, which in real life it is better not to have. I think I'm going to die, for something lifts me into the air. According to the script it must be a slow upward flow, with the other lights and voices of angels... But no. Lift me up from the ground quickly, arrogant, jerk. I send hand and foot signals, trying to mumble "I'm alive, I'm still here", but the signals get lost somewhere in the middle, legs and arms don't work, and what it is capable of head and limbs are foully dangle from side to side.