There was a woman, once. A beautiful woman, soft and kind, pretty with cute smile and sharp claws, heavenly and immoral, dangerous and disastrous, a good woman. I loved that woman. That woman would not live to see the sun set, on my eyes at least. That woman couldn't afford that? Now, by the mere mention of that woman doesn't make the story hers, but a lazy nightwalker, not be seen nor heard. Not even by the clueless clue, this story is by far not hers, but about the list of things she left behind. In her purse, find a collection of her accessories. Find me. My woman. That woman.

There was a woman, once. She left.

elly Hunter