Literature · Portuguese Literature

Um pouco de ternura

by Baptista-Bastos

Kindness dwelled in her eyes. A sweet smile soothed her lips and her face reflected the inner serenity of one who had never been punished by disregard nor injured by resentment. She was still young: standing in the shallow line that slightly divided people’s age between mature and old. Where did she come from? How old was she? Nobody knew. Sometimes she would apply lipstick on her withered lips. At times, she would display open necklines and sleeveless designs, showing the lustful outline of her breasts or her plump, opulent and sensual arms. She was tall, almost imposing; however, while walking up the steep street, with her feet almost not touching the ground, she seemed winged.

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