She sat on the red, perforated bench. It was raining, she could see her cloudy, uneven breaths. Her ankles were shivering; the hems of her possibly oversized jeans were soaked. She was alone, in an overgrown coat, yet she was happy. Quite possibly she was happy.
The abundance of words and array of pictures that are located on this blog, are possessions of Heather Marie, unless she tells you that they are not, in which case you must not believe that they are hers.
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