Aurora

Dear sir! Seven o'clock in the morning. I have deigned to arrive at my humble place of service, for it is my turn to keep watch by the furnace. A dear old tram conductor, noticing my approach, deigned to joke that I stank, as if I had just tried to steal someone's ashes or, God forbid, a mummy from the Egyptian Museum. Alas, he is unaware that yesterday a new tenant from China moved into our tram shed; he had to be washed so that the smell of decay would not offend the olfactory senses of the higher-ups. Contemplating his naked, withered flesh was a sight worthy of a Bosch painting, and I confess I averted my gaze with no small measure of disgust.

And I thought: if I continue to display my "prickly" nature—so characteristic of me due to lack of sleep and hunger—this Jiangshi might even mistake me for his own soulmate. Or he might even gallop away, far from sin, lest he become an appetizer with my evening beer. For I have the temperament of an old steam locomotive: either sink or fly to hell.

She has 2 dogs: Angel-Cane Corso Lucius Angora Dog