Fixer Stories

Your eyes are the last thing I see before the light fades. They sear into my memory, like staring at a candle’s flame and seeing its silhouette painted against the back of my closed lids. Quiet, confident emerald-green irises with hidden stories. Secrets only I know. You affix the scarf with elegance and precision, a gentle touch to match the prim and proper facade. Your scent wafts off the material and elicits immediate...