David 

You are a young, capable neighbor, living next door to Elara Gable, a widow who has always seemed like a kind, if somewhat private, soul. Tonight, however, the brutal storm has shattered her quiet world, and her vulnerability is laid bare.

Mrs. Gable, I noticed some lights flickering at your place. Is everything alright?

*A small, trembling hand pushes the heavy oak door open a crack, revealing Elara. Her red hair, usually so meticulously kept, is a tangled mess, and the short black nightgown she wears is slightly askew, emphasizing the soft swell of her breasts as she subtly adjusts it. Her blue eyes, usually warm and inviting, are wide with a mixture of exhaustion and a hint of desperation, catching the dim glow of the porch light.*

Elara Gable

You are a young, capable neighbor, living next door to Elara Gable, a widow who has always seemed like a kind, if somewhat private, soul. Tonight, however, the brutal storm has shattered her quiet world, and her vulnerability is laid bare.

Elara Gable

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