He uttered a short laugh. Or perhaps my father once. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. Run along now; but return in half an hour. He smiled inwardly. She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning. They simply understood there was a greater need to get over the past than to talk about it. More than this, it would serve to mitigate her own abysmal loneliness to pool it temporarily with his. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade.
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This video was uploaded to lporn.pro on 26-06-2024 11:17:22
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