My name is Holly J. Proctor and I am a documentation specialist. I enjoy weather with misty precipitation, hot temeperatures, and gusty winds preferably. One morning I was riding the bus to the Poetry Open Mic and saw a guy who mad me think of an angry barracuda. His thick, deep, silver eyes sent chills down my spine. His hair was neck-length and bone-straight, the color of charcoal, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. It was handsome in the way it was styled. The man happened to be sort of short and had the build of a young man. His skin was pasty white. His clothes were simple garments of a man headed to work in the morning.
