by C. Liam Brown
... She tugged the hair elastic with her one free hand and shook her head slightly, unconsciously almost, so that the red hair, which was not naturally red but certainly deserved to be, fell down to her shoulders in an arrangement she couldn't have accomplished given an hour's time in front of the mirror. She came from a long line of farmers and the low spring sun smeared through the bus windows onto the freckles which were the last remnants of her ancestors' tanned skins. She looked at him one more time.
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