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Twilight & the perpetual treehouseyness · 12:31am Mar 24th, 2018

The sky was the ceiling. & the sun was a disco ball on a string.

The string was cut by the almighty pair of scissors of God, efficiently turning day into night.

Twilight, who was suffering from severe jet lag, was heading down stairs to get herself some breakfast, or dinner or whatever.

As soon as Twilight finished discunbobulatedly shuffling down the stairs, she let out a long sigh.

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