On the 30 yesterday a sweet little blond girl serenaded the sparkly sticker on her hand. It was a pure an expression of joy as I've seen in awhile. She lay on the bench seat, laughing and caroling, I'm singin,', I'm singin,' I'm singin.' (Mentally, I couldn't help adding, In the rain.)
Then I noticed the woman she was with. Long, lean, also blond. Bra-less in a tight white t-shirt, with Praise Jesus written on it in blue marker. And her legs. Razor free for many moons, it seemed, furred with tufts of thick blond hair. I couldn't help but stare, fascinated. She was beautiful and honestly, kind of scary.
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