She had a magic trick that no one else could see.
Whenever she needed to, she could conjure the aurora borealis.
She couldn’t remember the first time she had tried breath work, filling her lungs until the skin of her chest stretched, holding it to the point of discomfort, and finally breathing out until it felt like her very soul could escape from her lips.
But now when she did, the colours of the skies would dance behind her eyelids, vivid indigo splashed with magnetic fuchsia and electrifying chartreuse, dancing to a tune only she could hear.
Take a breath.
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