Sorry to beg of you this morning. I wish I could tell you my story about the Unbelievable Highs. But I’m dumb. Please, I beg of you, provide me with a roof over my head, a warm bed to rest my weary body, some love and affection. I get so cold and sad living on the streets. Help me before it’s too late. They tell me Winter is coming.
Thank you for reading me,
Lydia.