Drenched in perfume not quite strong enough to eliminate the smoke cemented to my double breasted navy blue coat. Discontent about the scuff marks encompassing my black leather boots. Well, not so much black, more of a dark grey due to the damaging, wear and tear; it gives them character though eh? Holes and rips up and down my tights, y hair in its natural habitat, messy and curly. My forest green paisley-ish printed handkerchief covered in coffee stains, tied to my porcelain neck. A fraction of a cigarette placed daintily between my long slender fingers. Collecting the whispers and stares as i glide through the streets, up to the door of the pub in which i'll perform. Pausing as the door, deep breaths, proceeding through. Gusts of alcohol and cigars roll over me. This feels right, this feels home.