Ice-Fingered Mists & Truffle-Topped Monasteries

I have a frenemy. Her name: Descriptive Writing. She is difficult to figure out, elusive and slippery, and sometimes I get the feeling that she despises me. At times she’s willing to have a heart-to-heart chat over coffee, only to rush off mid-sentence for no apparent reason. But then there are times when she bares…