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She uncrossed her legs and lowered herself, carefully and slowly, until she lay supine. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper. During the week, her uniform was the blue and white scrubs of a nurse, the job she had suffered at for twenty-seven years.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 31-07-2024 10:26:42
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