Winifred

Pantone swatch: Wisteria

Recalling the little wicker bed in Wikwemikong where once she’d lain, revisiting a wonton soup-stained copy of Wilkie Collins’ The Woman in White, Winifred felt wobbly. Though wan, why, no! She would not weep. The water wicking of her woolen waistcoat would not suffice to conceal her woe from the woad-daubed Followers of Wotan, drawing ever nearer her bivouac amidst the wisterias. Winifred sought valiantly to distract herself, whimsically Windsor-knotting a wilted Wonka Bar wrapper, but could not but wonder which was worse: that woad incorrigibly wooed weevils, or that late-night Solstice Wednesdays were somehow never assigned to Viola.

Image: www.amazon.com