I met her at my daughter's eighteenth birthday party. A fresh faced girl with lollipop eyes and lips of raspberry kisses. She had pale hair, almost white but I knew straight away that was an illusion created by the craft of a hair stylist. When my daughter, Rebecca, introduced us her smile poured sweet honey on my soul and I knew I was hopelessly in love. Miserably in love, as age-wise she could have been Rebecca's twin while I, after forty-six summers, was definitel...
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