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She reluctantly agreed to stay gray, or really white, I should say, bright white. Her hair was nothing short of stunning. I blew it dry each time she showered, so I knew how its condition improved. But seeing her stand with her black jacket over her shoulders, I watched it glisten in the sun. She was beautiful. Really beautiful. That was the turning point. No turning back now.
Michele Cambardella
Maria Rattray
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Writer, author, teacher, fun-loving poet. Trying valiantly to make the world a better place. Helping you to guide the future. Find me at: https://ponmyword.com
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