Imp — ep.7
Nina The night crept into her apartment like a stray alley cat, blotting out her view of the orphaned building next door. The lock latching in place has always been her alarm clock, her father was off to work for evening. In the mirror, her sleep-tousled hair, burning-witch red, greeted her with a wild defiance. She needs to get her act together. Not yet though. She turns the faucet handle;…

















