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Crimson roses

She swept her stunning dress across the grande ballroom, a lovely breeze made her turn around and for once notice the rather modern deep blue window dressings. A deep sigh and overly dramatic exit made the maid raise her eyebrows and continue her work with no complaints. She knew how to make a certain person notice her as she less discretely walked on the perfectly laid gravel pathway surrounded by deep red roses, lovely as such that she never even noticed them or even smelled the beautiful scent.




Fri vers av Frida Andersson
Läst 128 gånger och applåderad av 1 personer
Publicerad 2015-09-01 22:47



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Frida Andersson
Frida Andersson