I am Lily Andrews, and I’m here to ask you a question: is a fairy not entitled to the glitter of her wings? No, says the hockey player brute, it belongs to my poker game. No, says cavity-laden child, it belongs to the youth. No, says the wingless case worker, it belongs to me!
I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose…Purgatory!
A city beyond the Darklands, where the fairy need not fear the leprechaun, where IT would not be bound by petty amnesia dust, where the winged would not be constrained by the wingless.
And with the glitter of your wings, Purgatory can become your city as well.
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