Reality - the new and improved kind - had still not sunken in. Genevieve still had to stare at pieces of the broken spire to process it all. She had been doing just that. From afar. From the top of a roof when a shout if a greeting echoed in the streets below.
"Uhm, yes?" Genevieve shouted back and walked to the rim of the flat rooftop. A cloaked figure looked frantically around. Almost a robe? Could this be a witch?