A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. It’s just to feel—one owns one’s self. I sha'n't utter a word. The period of repression was over. Wood required little pressing. It seemed to show a want of affection, to be a deliberate and unmerited disregard, to justify the reprisal of being hurt.
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This video was uploaded to newyorkairportlimo.mobi on 07-06-2024 10:50:03
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