The end of the refectory table was shrouded in light.
She was getting oiled and re-wired between their meetups..
Maybe that\'s why she only saw her once a month.
For all Willow knew, her aunt could be a robot.
They didn\'t laugh or cry; they didn\'t live.
She hated spending time with them.
She distanced herself from her family as much as she could.
Willow sat at the end of the table, her hair flooded in front of her face.
The end of the refectory table was shrouded in light