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Opal City
For Heather, sculpting was an act of love. She loved it, love the feeling of creativity, put every ounce of her heart and soul into the clay and making it come alive. One of her teachers had once described the experience of "making love to the clay."

She could see why they might say they.

So intent was she concentrating, that she at first did not notice the purple glow that suffused her tiny loft.

Here, she could put her mind off her break-up with Jason. Or at least a "time off." Great. She knew what that meant.

Wait.

Purple glow?

She looked up and the world went purple.

When she awoke, she felt... numb. Yeah. That was the only word for it. Pushing herself up, slowly, Heather looked around her loft. Nothing really out of place.

Then what the hell had that light been?

She pushed herself up to her feet. Dammit. Did she have a seizure? Some kind of attack?

And then she saw herself in the small mirror she kept in her "studio."

And screamed.