I mean, what is that leopard print? And I adore Abbey, but there is something a little too frail and affected about the hand gesture combined with her gap-tooth.
This said, there is a moodiness in the cover that does appeal to me. It's reminding me of the time I came this close to painting my room a dark, dusty blue, and making me forget why I didn't end up doing it. In my mind-tank, the cover is a very distant cousin of The Artist's Sitting Room in Ritterstrasse (1851), by Adolph Menzel:
Ich liebe es.