You're An Entropic Chaos Factor

Her Voice Was As Rough As Sandpaper. As Long As Blomkvist Lived, He Would Never Forget Her Face As She Went On The Attack. Her Teeth Were Bared Like A Beast Of Prey. Her Eyes Were Glittering, Black As Coal. She Moved With The Lightning Speed Of A Tarantula And Seemed Totally Focus On Her Prey As She Swung The Club Again, Striking Martin In The Ribs.

Salander Was The Woman Who Hated Men Who Hate Women.

It Did No Good To Cry, She Had Learned That Early On.

You're An Entropic Chaos Factor

What Irritated Her Most Was That They Kept Brushing Off Her Arguments With Patronizing Smiles, Making Her Feel Like A Teenager Being Quizzed On Her Homework. Without Actually Uttering A Single Inappropriate Word, They Displayed Towards Her An Attitude That Was So Antediluvian It Was Almost Comical. You Shouldn't Worry Your Pretty Head Over Complex Matters, Little Girl.