She had not meant to fall asleep, however, the last thing she recalled was weeping uncontrollably into the plush blue quilts. How long she cried, she had no idea, it had been as if a dam finally burst inside her and she must have succumbed to exhaustion after her tears abated.She sat upright, brushing the brunette tresses of her shoulder length hair away from her face and off her forehead. It was obvious that the hairstyle she had worn today, a stylish French twisting braid, was in ruins. Foolishly, that conclusion made her nearly cry again. She had always taken pride and the time to achieve the best appearance she could present, from her deep chestnut-colored hair, which was soft and elegantly cut, to her long polished fingernails. She might now be the age of a mature woman, however, she looked well for her age. Except that now one of her exceptionally long red fingernails was cracked and her life was in ruins.So why did she feel like sighing? In truth, she felt like running her hands over her body to discover the newness lurking there.
