The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink. She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. Always her prayers ended—'And may my beautiful mother guide me!' No. ‘Will you let be?’ Instead she grasped his hand tighter.
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This video was uploaded to smicorporate.biz on 31-05-2024 13:28:08
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