Kafka

Pretty, rather than handsome, might describe him best. He’s wearing a button-down white cotton shirt and olive green chinos, with not a single wrinkle on either. When he looks down, his longish hair falls over his brow, and occasionally he notices this and fingers it back. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, revealing slender white writs. Delicately framed glasses nicely complements his features.


I was nowhere from aware that above passages are described prettily. But, now, I am fully aware and blushing just by reading them.

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