Like scattering sand, her face covered in specs of amber colored polka dots. I fancied her life-like painted nose more than anything; I bragged, I adored over them. They were everything I've ever wanted in a girl: a spotted face, and bright, indigo eyes. She had a smart name, along with a nice form and a famous title. Absolutely perfect, she had been, but I never loved her, rather her freckles.
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