Sorry, we’re hungover, this will be a bad title #034

Walking forward, they stride on...talk is lite and little, 2 little girls mostly silently march forward, they pretend they are too embarrassed to broach the subject of their being fooled and tricked  into a mock fight of smog and fog and fear and mirror, but really they secret away the fact that they still feel that recent wound from that fake fight pulsing and stinging in their side, and oozing, and deepening...and they are sadly shamed enough to not be open with one another, a true and sad first for 2 confident, brave, but recently wounded girls, for this moment, for the first time they refuse to see one another and while marching on together, they are both sadly walking alone.