Dandia is naked. She is a naked writer with a mouthful of snow. She scrawls each page in a tick of second while she travels without her pants down a linear line of spilling coffee. The man with a frowning eyebrows looks down on her with his pendulum jaw swings back and forth.

She giggles, “funny man.” Now the world emulates her idea. Dandia leaves naked under the clouds of loose paper. She sees the blue through the black. Inked rain pours down over. She stops writing, smites the pitch black droplets and run. The man with a frowning eyebrows draws near.

“Isn’t it beautiful, what do you feel?” she asked.

The man covered her pale skin with his breaths which freeze as rapid as liquid nitrogen to blood. She jerked out. She drifted. “Melt,” said the frowning man.

He is painted with every words Dandia have written. “I have gone crazy over you. No matter how bizarre the world I created, it doesn’t change the ending. No escape, no grip, I’m still falling. Nothing can define it. Not to get the same thing twice.”