She had the kind of face that gazed toward neither east nor west, but rather to the north and south, with the northern area bordering on baldness and the sourthern area bordering the outline of a jet-black moustache just above her upper lip, where – strangely protuberant – I could see a food particle stuck firmly between two front teeth, and thought - with an impending sense of doom bordering on the sublime - “My God, she’s beautiful!”
Don
|