The redness of the phone caught its fancy. It wished upon the star that had given it birth and asked for guiding eyes, if it was within reason. The star gazed upon it and endowed it with a goodness that was unshakeable. It faltered at times of loosened knots and free periods. But those periods always led to excessive trauma and brought it back on course. How well concocted.
The drink it poured into the glass had a mystic swirl to it. It was going to be drunk and be made merry with. Slaves to happiness cannot begrudge their masters. It is so cool...
It made itself detached from probing poison needles through its solitude. Some random flugfelsarin saw that and wanted more to do with it in her life. Yet another found her fancies turn butterflies in her tummy. AH how it wove its webs without even knowing what webs were made of. But it knew it wouldn't last. After all, it happened to be a careening eraser that rubbed itself out of the slightest signs of normated normalcy.
It danced now as cares were melted away by the song's novocain.