Like a spring wind, she moves through the crowd, refreshing, subtle, distinct. Her dark hair pinned loosely from her face, a a tide of gentle curls offsetting her white cotton blouse.

Like a spring wind, she moves through the crowd, refreshing, subtle, distinct. Her dark hair pinned ...

If the 1950s weren’t racist, homophobic, & every other Xenophobic -ism in the world. (I’ll add more if there’s interest) Show more
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