And then the horrible no good dark and dingy month was embellished by a teeny tiny strand of brilliant sun, like hopeful stubborn tinsel suspended in a dry curbside tree.
"I can use that!" Shouted the artist."I am sure to find another too ," she thought looking around.
"Where there is one glimmer, there is more."
"I can hang them together," she planned as she hunted around, "and I will call them 'Spring'."
So the artist gathered each gleam and shimmer, suspending them together over her city, and it was blindingly good.
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