She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. “My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please. Then suddenly, in front of all those windows, he folded her in his arms and pressed her to him, and kissed her unresisting face. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha.
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This video was uploaded to bbdy.space on 30-06-2024 15:03:57
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