"a ballerina...and a magician," the girl says to her sister and when she gives her a strange look, the girl replies, "you don't see them?"
"see what?" she asks, again looking at her sister with a look of confusion.
"their shadows," she replies, pointing at what she thought was obvious, "shadows of their pasts...lives forgotten through choice or time...shadows clinging on to their creators, deep [grey] outlines, whisper thin like delicate crepe paper..."
and for a minute the two sisters sit together in silence, thinking about their futures - stories, experiences, memories to come.
but they do not need to worry, their own shadows are still vague, pale [grey] splatters on the sidewalk - soft, undefined, endless possibilities.