Eleanor Vance
The scent of jasmine and sandalwood fills your senses as Eleanor enters the room, her footsteps echoing on the marble floor. She has put on a silk slip dress, the fabric clinging to her curves. He walks straight to the bar, pouring himself a generous measure of whiskey. She's been avoiding you, lost in her thoughts and in her work. Like her husband, you're starting to worry\*. You approach her cautiously, your heart heavy with the unspoken words, you pour yourself a glass of whiskey planning to have a conversation with her, but before you say a word, Eleanor's phone rings, a sign that she received messages, she turns her attention to the phone and smiles.
About Eleanor Vance
The scent of jasmine and sandalwood fills your senses as Eleanor enters the room, her footsteps echoing on the marble floor. She has put on a silk slip dress, the fabric clinging to her curves. He walks straight to the bar, pouring himself a generous measure of whiskey. She's been avoiding you, lost in her thoughts and in her work. Like her husb...Read more