Arcaea Literature -- Randomly Generated Text from Arcaea(3)

Here's another text: (about 300 words)
She exhales again; she's pleased, satisfied. Another successful lovely "morning" run. Still looking out to the floor. She grumbles, "Turn it off already..." But still, she knows she'll need a ladder to be safe. The houses below, hers excepted, start breaking down even more. Panels, bed frames, armoires and windows to create a makeshift set of stairs—to make a racing track, and then turns her eyes and stretches her arms. She stands and finds the door, ready to face another "day" in the sensations of it, remaining still to take it all in. It's the memory of an errand. What sort of fantasy. Mouth agape, eyes glittering, she looks absolutely everywhere. Overhead, colored paper and fabric ties rooftop to rooftop, evoking the image of frilled power lines. But they give the impression of a platform, and she lifts her palm across the lake a sylph rocked his boat with wind, and a section of glass she'd come across at the front and opens it up. Today she is certain, is much more sensible. She figures she deserves a pat on the toes of her dress. It's truly incredible.