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She wears a neat, button-down gray shirt with a slightly wrinkled, gracefully rounded collar — an innocent, a child’s collar; her eyes are clear, her eyebrows slightly full; her jet-black hair is cut off just below her ears, with one side flipping upward. She looks reserved, dignified, and remarkably poised. But to stare at her as she stares at us is to enter an abyss.

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Author: Author

writing, reading, photography, botany, travel

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