Her skin is pale, freckled. A pink hair clip grips her curly blonde hair tightly, at its brunette roots. She wears a white cotton minidress – it clings ferociously to her body, strained by her C-D cup breasts, and hugging her slender thighs. She sports strappy sandals, and freshly applied white toenail polish.

Her black KN-95, along with a shock of curl falling over her face, obscure any glimpse I might hope to get of her eyes.

So I just imagine: bright blue. Clear. Big. With long black eyelashes.

Could be right, could be wrong. Doesn’t matter.

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