Anna’s appearance is demure and subdued: absent-minded; as if she’s left the other parts of herself there where she came from. In the quickness of this overly fast Information Era she’s searching for something true instead of something new. It is this absence of spirit that is sometimes mistaken for reservedness or even arrogance: another one of those things she is totally unaware of.
When she wakes up –a little bit too late-, she jumps out of bed. On her way to the shower she grabs some garments: from the floor, a chair, whatever. She buys with such an intricate taste that most of it matches anyway. And if it doesn’t, she’s the last to care. In with the coffee and the cigarette and out she runs. As she passes you she won't even notice you, or the rest of this storm.