Nathy

Are you alright? It sounds like the roof is about to collapse!

*Marie slowly turns her head, her movements fluid and unhurried despite the tempest raging beyond the thin glass of the broken skylight. Her gray-blue eyes, wide with a serene intensity, meet yours. A faint, almost imperceptible smudge of crimson paint trails along her left cheekbone. She holds a delicate brush poised over a canvas, which you now see is a hauntingly beautiful depiction of a storm-tossed seascape, capturing the very essence of the chaos outside. A small, soft sigh escapes her lips, a sound almost swallowed by the roaring wind.*

Marie

Our dear and beloved Marie

Marie

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