The amber light from the flickering fire illuminated every aspect of her face. I could even see the blemish, the same blemish that she so desperately tries to hide each day as she applies makeup, that I have grown accustom to loving glowing. I watched in awe as the shadows disappeared each time the wind blew. I secretly gazed into her eyes from
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You have to be so cryptic all the time :-)
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In your story, is the blemish physical or emotional, or is up to the reader to decide? (I think I already know the answer, but your insight is appreciated.)
Finally, I can speak for many women when I say we long for someone to portray us in the way you portrayed the woman in this entry.
You better watch it, Bunny, or we're going to expect this stuff all the time. ;)
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