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In by Lucía on September 29, 2010 at 2:21 am

His skin was healthy but weathered, like bark on an older tree.  Lines formed creases along the planes of his face, and although his cheeks dipped inward, mature lines formed parentheses around his mouth, falling outward, like ripples from his smiles.  The hair was a top layer of unruly fluff, its soft grey reflected in blue eyes that shone bright against the wearing skin.  Softest, though, was the tone of his voice, a smooth rolling wave that kept the integrity of its tone, even when it echoed with emotion.  The man was an educator; it was written on his face.


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