smudge

The stolen balloon rose quickly—too quickly, according to Faucet—and the howls of its lone passenger could no longer be heard, as the balloon shrank to a tiny smudge of rainbow in the sky.

But those eyes were unmistakable—dark as twin smudges of pitch, dangerous as a pair of bottomless wells.

There were leaves in her hair, rips in her stockings, and dirt smudged across both cheeks.

Lady Constance had read and reread the society page so many times and dropped so many salty tears upon it, she now had black ink smudges all over her hands and face.

Instead of a funhouse mirror of what could be, it’s merely a smudged reflection of what is.