Room 304, Wednesday Night

Angela was sitting on her bed, crumpled paper around her. She just needed to get the description of the girl's in her story's freezing hands exactly right to impress Yuki.

And as I looked at the garden, I knew. Knew that my touch made things cold and hard. My long, slender fingers still had purplish nails; they shone like a promise, like vanishing girlhood.

Well, that wouldn't quite do. Angela sighed, crossed it out and started over.

Her door was open.