We wait outside in the sunlight
For her mother to pick us up.
When she arrives in a Talisman
I can't help thinking she's as stereotypically French as could be.
Her dark brown hair is swept into a bun, save for two pieces dangling in front of her face.
Her sleeveless shirt was on the cover of one of my mother's fashion magazines and
Little glass drops hang from her ears.
I can't see her eyes, as they are masked by a pair of sunglasses.
But even if I could, I doubt they would match her daughter's.
Her daughters eyes are something special.
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Her
RomantikaI love history even more today. Group projects were announced. I typically hate them, although I never do most of the work. I do what I need to do, nothing more nothing less. Today, I was paired with her. Her and one other girl, who's out sick. ...
