Chasing down

A tall woman with a little crimson handkercheif tied just so to brighten the dour collar of her black coat; hands in her pockets and level stare piercing through us like a long needle of conjecture, my narrator and I. I can feel the snowstorm biting into me; it's a feeling I know so well. Does he?

Ugh.

Hello. Can I please sleep worse? That would be -great-.

Oh, boy...

To shop on Etsy is to realize how clever I wish I was >.>...