The First Snowfall...

The first snowfall of the season. The first bitterly cold mornig where staying huddled under the blankets seems wise. (Perhaps sleeping in more than boxers and a tank top would have been wise too...)

The snow was beautiful, and the lights of the River Cafe sparkled against the flakes. It was a little wet to simply sit gracefully on her hair, and so after twenty minutes intead of looking slightly frosted, which she knows is a good look for her, she just looked like a drowned...something. Not the best second impression.

She's never been so incapable of flirting in her life. Her flirting genes (famously passed down from great grandmother to grandmother to mother to her...) failed her miserably last night.

She's pretty sure her grandmother flirts more with the gardner.