Thabit – an excerpt. 

She had seen much in her life-maybe too much; maybe she was too mythical to be thought of as real… even when she was engulfed by it she still observed from a far (Indeed a rare one was she) a stillness she knew not, and yet she knew to long for its presence, she knew to hold tight to things, but always seemed to grasp at irons that burnt her hands, pigs greased in oil escaped her; she lived in a world where all was temporary, the only thing permanent wher the simple strings she put to pads. She discovered string theory in the most unorthodox of ways, falling between the lines where complexity doth lie. Her favorite where the half planets that stuck between legible lines, read by men whose goal is to make pretty women cry and swoon, too oft lost among the dissonance she found peace. 

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