I see this lady while crossing the street. Her long, black hair sits undisturbed on her head, even as she struts down the pedestrian lane, and hops onto the awaiting jeepney on the other side. I follow and sit opposite her.  Her white and delicate cheeks are tinged with pale pink, giving her cheekbones just enough prominence.  Her perfectly-carved lips, tastefully covered by a light shade of red, rests below a scarce moustache that I could hardly discern, unless I stare.


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