She turned the washcloth over to revive its coolness.
I am tired of death. These fictional murders will not redress the wrongs done to women through the centuries ... I fear they tend to desensitize us all.
Friday Flash Fiction |
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She flung herself onto the fainting couch. (It had been reupholstered with a modern blue and white design that worked surprisingly well with its antique mahogany trim.) She clutched a cool washcloth to her forehead. Why couldn't we have dainty hankies and long flowing Edwardian dresses? It's not that I want to be decorative, but being surrounded by beautiful things can be uplifting ...
She turned the washcloth over to revive its coolness. I am tired of death. These fictional murders will not redress the wrongs done to women through the centuries ... I fear they tend to desensitize us all. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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