My little sun came to me in shards. She had a strong sound, like glass breaking. And even if glass doesn't cut your skin, your ears cry. You jump away! But maybe you step on a stray little shard anyway. You step a little close to the doused fire's embers. You fly too close to the sun. You plummet just a little and your shadow doesn't shine like others' does.
The edges of your shadow seem blurry. You rely on it, so it's easy to stumble and trip. It's not clear when your foot is when your shadow is your sight, as that of a cavedweller would be, and as the many little shadows seem to shift and make littler, darker shadows sometimes that you wonder might be you. But you decide against it. You are all of the shadows after all. Even as a curved lens is placed between you and your little sun, the shadows are still your own.
You learn to make shapes of your fingers in the shadows. The others laugh and cry when you do. Sometimes you too.
You can see a rainbow on all days but the darkest. Two, on the brightest. Three with a mirror, a keen eye, a clever mind!
When you hold a thing in your hand or another hugs you close the shadow can be blurry and with a small strong center or they can simply not be there at all because yours is bigger.
Being a shadow will change as you cannot keep the flame burning forever. Your fire's crackling will fall. If you're unprepared the rain will envelop you in a shadow itself. Are you prepared for it to change so? Are you even prepared for how it's already changed?