Storybird

She had long strands of glistening brown hair. The colour of a tumbleweed, or dead grass in the fall, or even, perhaps, a hazy sky, after something bad has happened. Her eyes were grey, almost with a hint of blue. When you looked closely, it almost looked like a teal, tinted to a shimmery colour. Her skin was pale. An unhealthy colour as it seemed. A very ghostly grey. Even her name sounded ghostly, like a whisper. Rose. And she always appeared alone. Never sharing eye contact, her hood up, her hair glistening over her eyes. Rose was ghostly and mysterious.