Little Yellow House on Blueberry Hill; Monday Afternoon.
As promised in the email, Mia had out both punch and pie and even coffee (lots of coffee) in the little living room of the little yellow house, and she lounged in the big weathered leather armchair with a book, bare feet dangling off the armrest. She had a plate, a mug, a cigarette, and moody thirties jazz from her record player. It was so nice that she was almost feeling like she wouldn't be put out at all if no one ended up stopping by.
[[ open, of course! ]]
[[ open, of course! ]]