Semon Strobos - SEMON's WORDS

Actually, Rose had rarely suffered that impulse. And lately Mom, Fiona, phoned HER, daily. The solid ring of Rose's indestructible black rotary, calling, imperious or plangent, through her loping sixth floor-through walkup, whose light, from three sides, infused her creamy skin and decor, in contrast to carved walnut moldings, a smooth tan and sungilt mahogany hair. ................
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