Pearfat ParfumOnly a Witch Cat

limited edition! Face powder collects in the corners of her mouth as she chews a bite of watermelon, freshly cooled in a well—too crunchy. It sounds too cold and crunchy. When her lips part, an eye peeks out, glancing to each side in sync with the two on her face. The sound effects are impossible to ignore. It must be a half-asleep fantasy, you know, but you feel baked into the late-summer soil, unable to jolt yourself out of this lucid dream, tethered to the ground by warped strands of herbal leaves and a sinking feeling.