She straddled the bench, and picked up a twig, at the same time drawing out with her pinkie a glittering hair that had blown between her lips. She scratched a quick five-pointed star in the dirt. Smoky looked at it and at the tautness of her jeans. "That's not really it," she said, looking birdwise at her star, 'but sort of. See it's a house all fronts..."
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Little, Big - pg. 30
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