Cerulean tears

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“Cerulea, why are you crying?”

“What? You want to know what I am going to wear tonight when we go to Third Place Books. Well, I don’t yet know.”

“No…I am not going to wear the same outfit I wore yesterday, or the one I wore the day before. You’ve known me long enough to know that I usually change my clothes every day.”

“Cerulea! Shame on you for blubbering in this way. What has come over you? If you keep this up for much longer I don’t know what will happen. You might smear your ink, or–even worse–make your pages all wet and crinkly. I detest crinkly pages. So come on, tell me what is wrong.”

“You have got to be kidding. You want to change the way you look for tonight? But why? You look beautiful just as you are.”

“I see. You feel that if I get to change my clothes, you should be able to change your cover. But Cerulea, I have to tell you, it is not going to happen.”

“You want to know why, okay, I’ll tell you why. I have a closet full of clothes, so it is easy for me to change my clothes. You only have one cover.”

“What do you mean, it isn’t fair. Don’t you understand that your cover is a part of what makes you, you? Where would you be, without your big, mysterious blue eye–or that door, the one that makes every person who sees it wonder what might be on the other side?”

“Of course I’m right! You are wonderful just as you are. I would not want you to change a thing.”

“Of course I mean it!”

“I love you too Cerulea, I love you too. Now go get cleaned up. The event starts at 6:30. We don’t want to be late.”

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