The dress came alive when worn.
”It’s a scan.”
”But of what?”
Her mirror now showed someone else.
A wilted flower makes most noise.
Iron bends; she flamed the fire.
“Bibliophile’s Achilles heel: books about books!”
“Gone for months; now back again?”
“If love was food, bite me!”
In need of money; will pay!
Grave is dug, but lays empty.