The Story Without a Middle or an End

Vervanna was a very peculiar sort of girl. The kind that opened closet doors and stood with her head against the narrow edge and said she could hear the wood whispering dark secrets into her ear. The kind that only drank her milk after it had been frozen completely through and thawed out again. The kind that liked to pet fawns, and geese, and small, warty toads. The kind whom children loved and adults thought, well... rather odd. But odd or even Vervanna was Vervanna, and not one rolling eye or stuck-up nose would change that. Not one until today.