she is crouched in the corner of the couch, arms crossed over the sides and peering at the newspapers she just put up again. they fell down because of the winter humidity. her back is to me. her pink hair is long, and she looks so small in that shirt, and i think this is a sight that should be preserved. a picture would not be good enough. she is adjusting the fourth article. she sighs when it doens't cooperate. she has moved back, and she is looking at the articles closer to the top of the wall. there's one about postal codes, and "for lovers", and the shore of once salt. her neck is angled, and she's humming something. she is perfect.