There was no death in the world, not unless she allowed it. No hunger, no thirst. She saw the rain, but it touched not a hair. She saw the sun, but it cast not one living shadow upon the streets.
She cried, and all the world wept with her. She laughed, and all the world shared in her mirth.
Echoes chanted up and down the main street as she walked through, hollow sounds birthed of hallowed constructs. All the clocks stopped at noon when she passed, and then midnight when she returned.
The city was emptied of crime until she broke a window, relieved a mannequin of its clothing, and looked at herself in a mirror wearing a dress that was a size too large. She smiled at her reflection and all the world adored her. She blushed and all the world swooned.
She returned home at midnight, guided by the light of stars that so desperately desired for her to give them meaning. Orion was gone. Leo and Gemini were gone. Andromeda was undiscovered once more. For as long as she kept them from being known, they never would be.
She sat and cried in her room, wearing a dress that would never fit. She slept, and all the world dreamed of lost things.