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7. Organised chaos

I padded into the art room & there she was. Stood in the middle of it all. She had paint on her face & a paintbrush through her ponytail. Her long hoodie sleeves had been dipped, one too many times into an assortment of paints & dyes & covered in pastels. Her previously black now greying jeans covered in rips & holes. She was perfect, the immaculate in the middle of her organised chaos. 

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