FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

As Smoothie Isabelle

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Daniel18

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Isabelle smiled and sat up in her chair in her little office on the island. Oh, everything was going so well there! There had been a couple of new houses built and the river had been re-routed so that they now had a wonderful, big lake for fishing too! How fantastic was that? The island manager was doing such an amazing job.

Sometimes people asked how she could always be so upbeat, but the fact of the matter was that that was just how Isabelle was all the time. She always felt like that and negative emotions only came into play sometimes, for she was not immune to trouble and bad things did happen. If she truly was perpetually happy, it was only because others didn't see under the surface layer of the golden-yellow dog, her hair tied up on top of her head in a neat bun that day.

But, at that time, she really was happy, even though it felt like she had nothing more to do. Every task that Isabelle could think of for the island and the residents of it too had been completed and she was left humming softly and shuffling her papers, wondering if she should take a look at the filing system again. There could be something needed there, something a little more helpful to her in her day-to-day assistance on the island, but there was something good too!

"Oh, how kind!"

On the edge of her desk sat a banana smoothie, yellow and smooth, in a plastic cup, reusable, and attached straw through the hole of the lid. A note had been trapped under the edge of it, reading, "Drink me". Almost like something from Alice in Wonderland, how bizarre!

It looked so good that she took it right away and pressed her lips around the straw. The yellow dog smiled as widely as she could with the straw between her lips, drinking it all down, gulp after gulp after gulp. It was so smooth and so fruity that she had to swallow everything, keeping going, barely even pausing for breath as she drank down every drop of the smoothie that had been so very kindly left for her. The residents of the growing island were so sweet, she was so lucky to be able to work there and look after them all!

"Oh..."

However, something was wrong, something was different. Her body felt...very strange. It was almost as if she had been struck by a sudden weakness, her body "wafty" and floaty, as if the dog had no kind of real substance at all there anymore.

"Oh, I feel... I feel..."

Yet Isabelle lost her use of words, slopping and glugging as if they had turned to the smoothie in her mouth that she had just been drinking only a moment ago. Everything trembled, as if her muscles were vibrating - so much! Her skin itched and she tried to scratch it, but her body was too heavy, so heavy indeed that she couldn't even move her arm!

Isabelle wanted to squeak, to shout, to do something to call for help, but there was no chance, not as everything softened around her and, suddenly, she was slipping down and down and down.

Melting. She was melting!

Isabelle couldn't even make a sound as her heavy body melted down, yellow, soft and liquid, so achy with vibrations, yet the ticklish sensation was very much not an itch that she could scratch any longer. She didn't have any hands! No arms, no nothing! Isabelle didn't even know how she was able to see at that moment, the solid chunks of her legs breaking apart as if they were fragments of a chunky smoothie, one that she would have had to suck hard at to get all the way down her throat.

But why was she likening herself to a smoothie? Oh, that didn't make sense, not to her, but it didn't have to make sense as her legs crumbled and splattered into a yellow smoothie, yellow flooding her, splattering off her chair and right down to the ground with a wet sound.

And then she couldn't see, numb from head to toe, frantically trying to wiggle her fingers and her toes, though the muscles for them didn't even seem to exist anymore. Oh, was someone going to find her there? Who had left the smoothie for her? And why was everything yellow, why was she so numb? Why didn't her body want to be solid again?

She couldn't breathe, but Isabelle's worry slowly faded. It felt...good, soft and simple, easy and light. She didn't need to breathe and the lack of that pull and sensation at least helped her a little bit, soothing the edges of her mind, reminding her that she was okay and that she was in control, despite what her initially panicked mind might have told her before.

Slowly, on the floor of the office, she felt as if...she was on her back. Was that right? Yes, it felt like she was lying down, the solidity of the floor under her body giving her comfort, something to push back against. Trying to move, Isabelle shifted in a slurp and a slop of yellow smoothie, ripples flowing around her, but her body, whatever it was, was instantly numb all over again.

She'd tried to move too quickly. Maybe she'd disrupted something that was trying to pull herself and her body back together? That sort of thing was not something that Isabelle usually thought about, but, well...she had to come to some kind of explanation for what was happening to her. Maybe she'd been up too late watching silly movies...

The numbness encasing her body pulled over her softly, as if a blanket of sensation was being removed from her body. She took it more slowly that time, moving very slowly, thinking about her torso, her arms, her legs, everything about herself. Even though Isabelle's clothes seemed to have magically disappeared and her body was vibrating again, trembling and rippling, the shapes of limbs coming back together again, which was something, at the very least.

Still, the tickling pressure came, always in the back of her mind despite everything. Whenever her body was reforming, it was less uncomfortable, though that was not honestly saying much as she tried to come to terms with everything that was happening to her, even though she wasn't scared.

Slowly, up and up and up, she sat. Until her legs were stretched out before her, even her toes formed, though she could not properly wiggle them without feeling as if they were slopping apart and vibrating all over again. She turned her hands over, first the backs and then the fronts, wondering at how they suddenly looked so very solid and detailed all over again. There were little ripples on her skin, but it still looked like a part of her, as if it was all so very smooth that it all came together perfectly.

Yet all it took was her resting her hands back on the floor for Isabelle to tremble and tickle all the way back to sloppy smoothie hands, nubs at the end of her arms that didn't look like hands at all. The vibrating and itching was much, much worse when she was deforming and she tried to focus, holding onto her shape, thinking that she was Isabelle as much as she knew she was. Again, she rested her hands on the floor, but she couldn't stop them from melting, fingers splaying out into a thin, yellow smoothie puddle, which increased in size the more pressure she put on them.

"Nnnggghhh..."

Even Isabelle could not help but moan, not then. It felt like everything was cramping when it deformed, her legs melting and slopping just a little, though it was hard to keep them formed when most of her body weight was on them and her buttocks. Even her fingers felt like they were shaking, though the sloppy smoothie body stuck to the ground too, as if it was reluctant to part from it, dragging her down.

"Hm..."

Isabelle caught sight of the mirror fastened to the office wall, not one that she often used. It was one of her best chances of getting to see what had happened to her, seeing her entire body in one go.

Yet that was going to be very, very hard...

She held her breath, even though she still did not quite feel as if she needed to breathe. Slowly, so very slowly, she put pressure on a hand, using that hand to support herself to get up into a kneeling position. Her hand sucked at the flow, itching into a shapeless blob, and, yet again, Isabelle had to fight down the urge to scratch at it. It was not as if she thought that satisfying that itch was going to do any much good at all anyway.

But that was harder than anything, her knees vibrating as her legs shifted and melted, deforming and breaking apart into sloppy chunks. It was hard, so very hard, but she was used to difficult things - it was all part of her work, after all! And she couldn't look after the residents of the town when she wasn't whole and herself.

So, Isabelle had to get up, forcing herself through the intense vibrations and cramping, how her muscles felt like they were closing in on themselves. She staggered, sort of standing but aware that her legs were cramping and breaking apart, making her feel shorter, for her vantage point of the cute little office was much lower than it usually was. Yet, even from that point, with no feet and no calves and no knees, she could reform her legs, down from her knees to her calves, itching with relief as she brought substance back to her lower body.

Even though she was naked, she did not feel naked, everything smooth and seamless, thinking only of that mirror. One step blistered itching, cramping vibrations through her feet, slurping and deforming down to blobs again, but she found that she could keep going forward, if only she took her time. Allowing each foot to reform before setting it down again, she grunted softly in the back of her throat, though the sound seemed to gurgle and bubble rather surprisingly there.

At least she didn't need to breathe, not as she closed the distance between her and the mirror the best that she could, though it was torturously slow, as if she was wading through, well, a very thick smoothie. She could smell it too, almost the yellow of it, the banana pulling at her nostrils, though Isabelle was at least glad that she still had that sense of smell.

Standing before the mirror, trying her best to ignore the itching, tickling, attention-pulling sensations clawing at her feet, she took a deep breath (that still wasn't needed), and took herself in, in the mirror.

The mirror was a full-body one, though it didn't quite look like her. The itching and cramping faded to a low buzz in the back of her mind as she looked herself over, taking her time, not moving at all, not at first. Yet her feet could not fully reform and she doubted that they had even reformed once while she had been walking, not completely. Standing there, her feet were splodged out on the floorboards as if someone had painted them there, the bare semblance of toes pressing up through the splodgy mess of her deformed feet.

Even her eyes and tongue were yellow, though there was a darker iris in the middle of them and something that may have been a pupil. Holding out her arm, she inspected her body closely, more and more fascinated by it, now that she was not constantly deforming. Her hips were still the same width and so were her shoulders, the narrow tuck and pull of her waist smoother than ever.

"It really is like I've been painted..."

She tried to talk, but the words came out slowly, as if she was speaking them through the smoothie that was her body. But Isabelle could still talk in some way and that helped more than a little, making her feel a little more like herself again, in a good way.

Carefully, thinking about every step, she turned. That did not stop the uncomfortable, vibrating tickling, as if she was standing on something constantly moving, like a vibration plate from the town gymnasium, from radiating up her legs from her feet. Yet the most uncomfortable sensations were all concentrated in her feet, which made it easier to focus, deforming and then softening as they reformed.

She ignore the feeling, as she eyed up her legs, how the smoothie-like substance that was her body rippled a little, but settled again into a firm leg a moment later. She could run her hands over her body too, lightly disturbing it, but it was not all that hard for her to reform that part of her, most thankfully. She could press her fingers into the smoothie body to make shapes and swirls, though that was not too pleasant as they reformed, perhaps as they had been caused by her own hands and fingers scooping shapes into herself.

Turning a full circle, she even wagged her tail, though it was not fluffy like it usually was, not as it waggled back and forth, as if it was a bit more weighed down than before. Her skin felt more solid as she became herself, rubbing over the surface of it, all as it became...almost balloon-like. It did not squeak, however, so she set that sensation aside, not wanting to pursue that any further. If she was solid, however, that meant that her body was more comfortable, even if she had to deal with her deforming, reforming, feet.

Curiosity pulled at her as she looked down, easing her legs apart. Even though her breasts were smooth, her pussy... Well, it was still there. Her fingers prodded, searching for differences in her body, but the give there surprised even Isabelle as her entire hand suddenly disappeared inside her sex!

Though she could not be sure if it was her sex or not, not as her body tightened around her wrist, even as she worked it back and forth. Pushing deeper and then pulling back, she worked back and forth, trying to work out just what had happened to her body there, why that part of her was so different.

It did not squelch around her, not at all, but maybe that was her greater control over her body coming into play. It was flexible around her hand, yet still retained a strange sensation of solidity. She could even push deeper and deeper, deeper still, so that half of her arm was, somehow, inside her!

"Wow..."

She breathed out the word, curious as to what was happening, though still wanting to see more, to do more. Pleasure burst through her, vibrating and pulling, but it was a lot more pleasant, tangled with ecstasy, as she moaned aloud and rocked her hips, pushing into the touch.

"Oof!"

But she couldn't keep her balance, splashing down as her body connected hard with the ground with a wet splatter. Breaking apart, she couldn't stop the itching ache spreading through her, though Isabelle knew better then just how to reform her body, which allowed herself to, quite literally, pull herself back together again. The numbness only seemed to hit her when she was completely deformed and she was almost glad to take the light itching and tingling of reforming over that. She wanted to feel something, even if it was uncomfortable at times.

However, one thing that Isabelle had not realised, that level of reforming taking her a very long time, was that the hour had grown late. Time ceased to have as much meaning for her when in the smoothie body than it had before and she smiled faintly, shaking her head at the clock on the wall when she had reformed enough to stand and feel herself again. Darkness had fallen without her realising, perhaps after eight in the evening, which didn't help all that much when it came to staying up to date with her daily tasks.

"I've got to get enough sleep for the morning," she murmured to herself, feeling more confident in her changed vocal cords then. "Best get to bed..."

Thankfully, her clothes were still near, though Isabelle giggled faintly at the notion of what she had done to her pussy only a short time ago. Goodness, she had not thought that something like that could feel quite that good, but, then again, she'd never shoved half her arm into her body and could never have expected her body to take something like that!

She didn't think, however, as she walked to her clothes - and that mere act of walking had become more important than ever in that moment. For she wasn't thinking and her legs could not support her, breaking apart into yellow smoothie chunks, slopping down and melting while they were not able to hold her weight.

"Oof!"

She laughed at herself, even though it was annoying, only her torso remaining as the rest of her body splashed down to the ground. At least she wasn't making a mess, which was something at least, as she reformed, itching and aching, though she really had to fight down the urge to not react to the lighter, more fluttering ticklish sensation that came as she was reforming. Somehow, that was even trickier to bear without reacting in some way than the intense vibrations and twisting cramps.

Her body reformed, though it was slow, the hour ticking on. She wished she could go more quickly, but, well, she was still learning about her body. She'd have to find out, one way or the other, walking much more slowly to her clothes, though her feet still splodged out sloppily with every step, reforming when she lifted them.

The tickling and itching, however, had to be endured, her feet creeping outwards completely, so that there was no foot to be seen at all, just a puddle. They reformed quickly as she had the most practice pulling them back together, but she would have to do some work on the rest of her body, if that even became a point of contention at all.

She had to stop, however, groaning as she bent down to scratch her foot - both feet, in fact, swapping back and forth from one to the other, which only made the whole thing worse.

"Oooh!"

That wasn't a good groan, not at all, rubbing and scratching her foot constantly, trying to get everything to ease down the best she could. That was not the best idea, even though rubbing and itching her feet didn't make things any better. It only forced her to reform her feet even more quickly from the pressure of her fingers, tipping to the side as she lost her balance.

"Eeeee!"

She hadn't even gotten her clothes back on and she splatted down again! Though not completely, hopping on one foot as her leg broke into chunks, striving and fighting madly to regain her balance. The parts of her that splattered out, however, remained connected to her body still, as if they did not want to fully break apart from her, one way or the other. It was hard to draw big chunks of her leg back together though, forced to bounce to the other one, everything so much more difficult than she could have imagined on starting her day that morning.

She wriggled, twisting her foot back and forth, though she didn't want to make the same mistake again, making a face as she concentrated and stood tall, her legs reforming fully, down to the detail of her knees and her calves, feet wiggling. They deformed still when they were both set down at the same time, but the difference there was that the weight of her body still caused something of an issue. But it wasn't as if too that she could suddenly make her body a lot lighter than it actually was.

She would have to deal with it, finally making it to her clothes with her itching, tingling, tickling body finally fully reformed. She bent down, as carefully as she could, and still she lost her balance as the clothes merely melted through her fingers, her hands not able to hold them.

"Oof... Come on..."

She tried again, wiggling her fingers as they cramped and made her feel as if they were twisting back and forth strangely, though she could see that they were static and quiet, right there before her very eyes. It just was not that easy, not even then, thinking about being solid and whole, though it took too long to reform her fingers, even down to the delicate shape of the fingernails, even though they were still made from yellow smoothie too.

She had to try something different, yes... Dropping down lower to the ground, she balanced carefully, squatting, trying to slide her way into her clothes instead. That had a better effect, though her body itched and ached, even if her skin rippled like water, strained taut. It still had a balloon-like consistency and smoothness when she pressed into it, however, as if what she saw and what she felt did not match up with one another. Yet it felt quite as if things were coming together, flowing and smoothing out, just like a smoothie sliding down a straw or over the edge of a cup, her cup.

Isabelle wondered too if she could form her own smoothie body into a cup of some kind, though her body was a very strangely shaped cup that she would have to learn how to control. She couldn't help the residents of the island, after all, if her body was just a smoothie! Regardless of what had happened to her, she would have to uncover a way to go forward, slipping into her skirt, though it was more of a crawl, going headfirst.

Her blouse was more difficult, working her fingers and arms into the sleeves. Her body cramped easily when she pushed too hard and she had to move incredibly slowly, like a glacier "flowing" down a mountain, moving like water even if it was incredibly slow. That was a fun fact that she had picked up! Eventually, however, even if she didn't know how late it was, she got her head through the hole in the neck of her blouse, popping it back on, for she could use gravity to help her as her blouse dropped back into place on her body.

Her bra and underwear, well...they would have to wait. Those weren't so bad, no, not immediately. If she was good and covered up.

However, as Isabelle tried to sit up, her clothes stuck to her. At first, the dog thought that it was just the consistency of her body, the different feel and texture of it, but her clothes moved over her. Slowly but surely, despite her moaning protests, they sank through her body, disrupting all that she had managed to reform.

"Oh, nooo..."

Yet she couldn't stop it! They melted through her so that it looked like she had never dressed herself at all. It had taken her practically an hour just to dress herself the first time and Isabelle moaned hopelessly, her body melting into a puddle.

And yet...her body moved out of her control, though she could not see anything. The clothes shifted over her as she flowed away from them, moving away from the clothes that had disrupted things to begin with, slowly, yet again, reforming.

Was that all her life was going to be? Breaking apart and reforming, constantly? She would have sighed if she had been able to, though she did not even focus all that much on reforming that time. It would happen, one way or the other, and she only switched back on when the itching, cramping sensations had come to nearly a halt.

Concerned, she rubbed her arm and walked to the office, her feet going through the same routine of breaking apart and reforming, perching tentatively on her chair. Even though it was a light seat, it still made half her buttocks splay out on it, sticking to the surface, thick and gloopy and yet still solid. Her fingers carefully wavered towards her phone, but Isabelle, as expected, couldn't get anything to work on it, the touch screen not registering her hand, fingertips just splaying out on the phone screen.

She didn't want to do it, in case it woke up the entire town, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She tried to ring the town hall bell, the one that would call everyone to the town hall, but the button on the desk required strength to depress. Even a small amount of strength was seemingly not hers to take at that moment, though Isabelle still, somehow, thought that she had to try, yes, somehow. She could try to press it, yes, but her hand always melted through it as she tried to put too much pressure on the button in her urgency to grip it, to grab it, to draw it down.

It was all she could do, even then, but she growled softly in the back of her throat, coming out as a very un-Isabelle-like noise. She wasn't one to be frustrated! Oh, but she just wanted to know what was going on. Her fingers ached strangely and splodged out at the tips, melted and hard, yet they would still reform. It was as if the pace of her body reforming was going to happen one way or the other, though the dog did think that her body reformed more quickly if she concentrated on it.

One way or the other, she would find that out, for there had to be something that she could learn about her new smoothie body.

More carefully, she curled her reformed fingers around a pen, inching softly around it so that she could pick it up. And yet even though she knew exactly how to pick it up she could not, her fingers softening against it, moulding to its shape without anything further coming to pass. She couldn't collect in her fingers, couldn't hold it, couldn't do anything with it. Holding the pen was just as far out of her reach as was depressing the button with her finger.

Isabelle sighed. Oh, it was turning into an exceptionally long night indeed... Her eyes roamed the office, wondering if there was anything else she could try, though her eyes alit on the thermometer hung up on the wall.

"Oh, that's strange..."

Her voice, like her voice but different too, burbled up softly as if in bubbles, though the dog's attention was elsewhere. It was no longer ten degrees, as it had been before, but had seemingly jumped to twenty-five degrees. Quite honestly, Isabelle did not remember when she had last looked at it, but what the canine did know was that it was usually warm in the summer day and cold at night. It should not have been like that, but, oh...

Yes. They had installed special thermometers that would direct the heaters to warm up or cool down, all to keep the place warmer at night. And it was kicking in!

"Oh, no..."

Isabelle shivered, bits of her body breaking apart, everything soft and gooey, though her skin still looked as if it had a lot of substance to it, surprisingly so. And yet she squelched down, over her chair, melting increasingly, her buttocks softening, easing her down so that her vantage point was lower even than it had been before.

But she couldn't spend the rest of the night as a boring puddle! What would she do like that? And what if someone walked in the next morning and found her like that, all melted and messy? Would someone try to brush or mop her up, not knowing that it was her down there? What if she couldn't make herself known or heard and then there was nothing left of her?

It was not something that Isabelle wanted to be worrying about, so she had to fight it, had to think about being whole, despite the biting prickle of overly ticklish sensations coursing through her entire body.

She stood, too quickly, meaning to manually adjust the thermometer, yet Isabelle had tried to go without thinking about what she was doing, the first step slopping her down to her knees.

"Oof!"

Her legs broke apart, too weak from the temperature rise already, in big, yellow chunks, slopping down to the ground. Smoothie splashed up around her, already wet and broken, melting before her own eyes, and she squealed, trying to break her fall with her hands.

Her lips melted, fading against her face, but she couldn't help that, grumbling mutely as she struggled to reform herself. Some of her torso had remained whole, but not all of it, her arms splodgy and lumpy, only about a foot long. The nubs at the end of her arms must have been where her hands had to go back to and she relaxed down into the floor, letting her body reform, all the way down her arms to her hands and her less than useful fingers.

The temperature, however... Oh, that was a problem! That was just one more complication where Isabelle didn't want there to be any complications at all! For, as soon as she finally, not even knowing what time it was, managed to reform her torso, all she did was slop back down into the mess of the puddle again!

It just kept melting her! Making her so soft and so pliable that she couldn't find a way, any way, to stay whole, not for any time at all. It was so annoying! All so very annoying in a way that she couldn't stop herself from grunting, bubbling through her own puddle. The texture of her skin had changed with the puddle, not that she had any hands with which to stroke down her body and test it out. It just felt different, as if she could slosh and slop like that, though she hoped, rather desperately, that she could get back to her balloon-like skin, the springy, tight texture of it. At least then she had been whole and able to move around, kind of.

Somehow, she was able to sort of reform, enough for her to try to struggle her face up and out of the mess that her body had become, the puddle sort of firm, but not really. Not with any sort of consistency that she could ease her torso up with. There was the shape of her chest showing through, her shoulders rounding a little bit, but there was no definition there as her whole body took on a more wobbly, sloshy sort of form.

But Isabelle could try, just a little bit, all so that she could keep going, trying to take it even more slowly, to reform only small parts of her body, like her arms and the outline of her face and head. She didn't need the features of her face, as long as she could see, though it was rather disconcerting to not feel as if she had any substance to her, no mouth even that she could move. But Isabelle didn't think about that, forming as much of her arms as she could, though her fingers did not shape themselves that time.

She could live with that, if she could get herself to the thermometer or even out of the room, one way or the other. She just had to get herself to a point that she could not melt, for if she could stand again that would at least be something. What Isabelle would do after that, however, the dog wasn't so sure at all.

She tried to press up from her broken arms, melted up to the elbow joint, but was forced to squeal and slop back down again. Smoothie splashed up around her, but swiftly glommed back onto the floor, sticking to it as if her body was desperately trying to reform, to do what she wanted it to, but not getting her where she needed to, not one little bit. It wanted to be firm, yes, and it definitely wanted to be whole, but things were more difficult than simply wanting it.

Forming her head again, she lifted it, carefully, from the sloppy puddle of her, so thick and so dull and so heavy. The aching cramps layered her body, from head to toe, wherever her toes were. Those did not matter, however, even though they were uncomfortable, twisting through her stomach, her legs... But she didn't even know where her legs were, just guessing at where their general location could be in the puddle that was slowly, more and more and more, spreading out from her smoothie form.

Isabelle would have groaned, but she neither had lips nor a mouth for that. How horrible... She didn't want to be like that, even if she was getting more and more used to the ticklish sensations. It was better when she was reforming, at least, though breaking apart didn't bring her any relief in the slightest.

She sighed inwardly, not breathing, not needing to breathe. There was nothing she could do, not even then, though she would most likely have to wait until the morning and hope that she was found by someone when her body was somewhat whole. It would be embarrassing to be found without any clothes on at all, she thought, but at least there was no obvious genitalia between her legs. There hadn't been any "adult" shape to her backside either, her body without nipples too.

The canine was not all that sure whether that was a good thing or not, taking a small pleasure forward in the best way that she could. There had to be something she could do, something she could take, some kind of antidote for the form that she had been thrust into, all from drinking that banana smoothie that she'd thought someone had so very kindly left for her. Maybe they had had the best of intentions, but being stuck with an aching, breaking apart banana smoothie form was not something that Isabelle would have ever chosen for herself.

She wouldn't even be able to do most of her hobbies, like gardening, if her shape wouldn't hold enough to use the tools. And if there was no antidote, she would be forced to wear special clothes that wouldn't disrupt her form, if that was even something possible, or maybe even a suit, just to be somewhat closer to her normal self.

It would all be too much, yes, too much... There was so much to do, so much to work through... And it had been exhausting, aching and cramping, trying to reform all the time, every time becoming a little more uncomfortable and a little more difficult. It was too warm in there, too comfortable around her, melting and breaking apart, her nose dipping lower and lower.

She was just tired, so very tired. Everything was so draining that she couldn't get herself through it easily, groaning faintly, even though she didn't even make a single sound. Down and down and down... It was so much easier for her to rest and, frankly, Isabelle didn't want to go through the hassle of fighting and trying to reform her body all over again. She'd done it so many times over and, without being able to see anything, she ceased to care.

At least for the time being, she would rest for a little while, just a little while.

Fully in her smoothie puddle form, Isabelle slipped asleep, resting for the light of the coming morning, not all that far away.

Maybe things would look different then...