Paintings of Real Life.
She was standing at the top of the stairs, one pale splay of a hand resting with graceful poise against the wall, looking down at them as though searching intently for something she had lost. She did not frown, her eyes did not squint, but they twitched rapidly within the casing of her thick, dark eyelashes, pupils large and black and pushing
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Comments 1
I loves it =D
"Her hair was a flow of Renaissance waves over her shoulders. " - Very noice mate!
xx
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