Neither woman had bothered to stow their errant breasts from their tops, and Emma decided to go all the way in celebration, and tugged the right side of her top down. The I.D. sticker stayed put over her nipple, like a burlesque pasty. Emma made a mental note for future reference when devising new acts for her second stab at the genre. Maitland adjusted the rearview mirror, aiming it at Emma’s exposed chest which jiggled heartily as the car sped along the bumpy roadways. ‘Perfect tits, darling,’ she shouted over the noise of the engine. ‘Perfect! Did you read the script pages?’ Emma gave a snappy salute. ‘Read, rehearsed, and memorized,’ she confirmed. ‘Any questions? Anything you’re uncomfortable with?’ ‘No,’ shrugged Emma. ‘Why would I be?’ ‘It’s quite sexy stuff,’ said Jess. ‘But if you’re cool with it, then great. We’re here, we should cover up.’ She veered the car into a space in the shadow of a huge soundstage. ‘For now, anyhow!’ Emma had been enjoying the breezy toplessness so. Sipping the cocoa, steam tickling my nose I gathered a blanket to me then, shivering against the chill seeping in through the drafts in the window. It was an aged window, and had it’s fair share of cracks, and I soon found myself building a fire in the hearth, it’s steady warmth filling the room, beating back the onset of winter. The snow fell thick, coating the orchard in a soft, white blanket, it’s beauty like the grace of a ballerina, dancing and spinning into infinity. The imprint of the storm was magical upon me, capturing my attention and holding it’s gaze tight. I bundled deeply into the blanket then, and drifted off to sleep soon enough, watching the dancing snowflakes outside, secured by the heat of the crackling embers behind me. I awoke in the morning, cold and shivering, stiffness causing my joints to protest all movement. During the night I had shifted and found myself pressed against the chill pane of the window, huddled into the blanket for what warmth was to be had..
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