The weather gets worse day by day. First, it’s flurrying at the beginning of the week, and the Broken Heart explodes. These two happenings have no correlation, they simply happen the same day. That night, or morning, it begins hailing and Peter Stamatin, looking like a very, very out of place soul in the middle of the graveyard ends up helping her to her feet and inviting her back for tea. She didn’t want to go at first- she’d dragged a chair the entire way here to make a bit of peace with her mind over an entire carton of cigarettes.
Unfortunately, it didn’t kill her after a few boxes and the cigarette butts were starting to flow over her burnt ash tray. It was cold enough to hurt already, and it was only October.
Stamatin showed up- for a second she didn’t know which one it was due to the hair- but the eyes gave him away. She takes a box and leaves the carton for tomorrow. Unfortunately, when she steps into the loft apartment and takes stock of the paper town straddling every inch of it, it also begins hailing.
Which makes her jump and Peter jump because she jumped at the dozen or so loud thumps on the roofing. It’s loud and she puts yet another cigarette in her mouth and lights it on Peter’s gas stove while he fills his shelves with food. She’d ask where he got all of it, but he’s a Stamatin and everyone loves the bartender.
The promise of tea and possibly more potent things is how Yulia ends up lying on the floor out of her coat with a burning cigarette. She sprawled along the town to mark the roads, a particularly small woman dressed in workpants.
Her leg positively ached. She doesn’t want to get up. Peter, apparently, is making the tea.
This hail sounds like gunshots. She picks up an origami cow and places it on her chest.