Her numb fingers flipped the pages of tale she knew and loved. She knew reading would cost her, her own body. But she loved the feeling of disappearing until the tale was closed. She would always sit in her favorite place, a bench located in a abandoned park. It was about the time of autumn, her breath would show with fog but her lips weren't visible. Her grandmother would always read this tale on the same bench and she would love seeing her disappear. Some of the words I couldn't read then, but now it's a easy read.