She hands him his coffee; crosses to the doorway; motes of dust flutter nervously in her wake.

Author: Judith Guest

She hands him his coffee; crosses to the doorway; motes of dust flutter nervously in her wake. - Judith Guest




©gutesprueche.com

Data privacy

Imprint
Contact
Wir benutzen Cookies

Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.

OK Ich lehne Cookies ab