Day four.
It is cold. The AC’s assaults are relentless. Its vigor is superior to my meagre defences. Morale is declining. Rations are low. I fear the worst. Pray for me.
I do a quick inventory. One pair of tights, two leggings, a pair of trousers, a bodysuit, one camisole, a tight shirt, one long-sleeved shirt, a blazer, and then a chic scarf to protect me against the invisible vampires that keep whispering sweet yearnings across my vulnerable neck.
I am so f*****g cold!
Ami is oblivious to the creature that lurks in the ceiling of our workplace. There she is, sitting on her chair, hyper-focused on the activity of making herself look more flawless than she already is. She and her cute little nose, and her immaculately-shaped eyebrows, and those plump lips. Vanity, thou art Ami.
My sta
