Body

She pushed her small feet against the thin exhausted soles of her shoes. Applying moderate pressure, she twisted her body slowly. She was alert and listened closely for the cries of the gravel grinding against itself, breaking down its body into granules of dust. The feeling of control and uneven ground beneath her feet calmed her and excited her at the same time. (Two feelings often crafted in her body, however, usually in a less innocent context).

Dust

A girl who had dirty knees lived off eating solid particles with diameters less than 500 micrometers. She got her protein from pureed moths. She fed off of old library books and old photographs. Her only faithful companion was a fish. He lived off algae that he found on the sides of his tank. Her fellow traveler, whom she named boyfriend, lived off bottle caps, marker caps, old keys, plastic beads, nails, springs, bolts and buttons. He played her piano, not well, but in the name of good taste. Fish, boyfriend and dirty knees all had one thing in common. They loathed gravity.