I see her often, she’s always by herself, when I see her no matter where it is, in the halls or even outside, she’s always alone. She never says a word to anyone, nothing at all, a beautiful woman with the deepest blue eyes.
And no matter what the weather she will always wear the same thing, night or day, rain or shine, the same cloths. A white lace blouse with small little puffed sleeves, a skirt with four buttons that went across the stomach and abdomen, with the rest of the skirt flaring out just and inch below the hip bone and stopped a few inches above her knees, her legs were clad in dark brown stockings and if you were close enough you’d be able to see the small hearts designed in the fabric. Her shoes looked almost old fashioned, like the kind of shoes a little girl would wear to her first big fancy outing, only the woman’s had heels.
She always wore white gloves, like that of a queen with a little bow that rested at the wrist and a pink beret th