Prima Donna of the Gutter
It was 2 am when he finally returned home. He was so exhausted that he almost didn't notice the girl sitting on the curb outside his apartment building. She was dirty and barefoot, with a tattered dress and and dark, wavy hair. She sat next to the open garbage can, but she wasn't rifling through its contents, like he would've expected. She was painting it.
"Why are you painting my trash gold?" he asked, in a daze. She shrugged and looked up at him, and he caught a glipse of her wide-eyes browns under her bangs.
"One man's trash is another man's treasure." She stood up and dusted off her ragged dress. "My name's Donna. Prima Donna."
(This Ain't A Scene, It's an Arm's Race)
http://fobfan14.deviantart.com/
"Why are you painting my trash gold?" he asked, in a daze. She shrugged and looked up at him, and he caught a glipse of her wide-eyes browns under her bangs.
"One man's trash is another man's treasure." She stood up and dusted off her ragged dress. "My name's Donna. Prima Donna."
(This Ain't A Scene, It's an Arm's Race)
http://fobfan14.deviantart.com/
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