ㅁ Kiamon boarded the tram in the morning; No one had offered her much of a warning. Mist over snow, all half melted and gray, Slowly she started unfolding her day.
– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter. Part of a never-ending series of randomized snippets from the life of a fictional being in a fictional world (which is to say, my novel-in-progress that refuses to actually ever progress).
