A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. I'll be wanting my sixteen thousand. Imbecile. She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings. “When are you going away?” He asked.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 07-07-2024 14:37:12
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