Her skin was the soft mocha color of an exotic spice. Dark, tightly wound ringlets of hair were pulled back from a high forehead that pushed away from thin eyebrows of jet over long, smoky eye lashes brushing sloping eyes. A sharp, angled nose jetted over full, perfectly formed lips that were slightly moist. She was a picture perfect classic, like a master's painting escaped from a frame.
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AuthorHace Williams is a Seattle area author and journalist. Archives
December 2015
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