Literature
Comish: Mani-Hime
There was a frame in her hand and within it a precious picture that she would forever hold dear. The glass protected such a sacred object from the harsh elements of the outside world. Within the border of that seemingly innocent looking frame, was a picture of her parents and brother. Her finger rubbed against their faces, the glass was cold but she found the memory to bring more of a happy remembrance now. It was true that her family was gone, and she had been ripped apart from them for quite a long time, but the emotions she felt for them still held sturdy.
The smell of spices floated within the air, her nose expanded and then drew in,