Rori Bass. That is all. by Zaphira

Rori Bass. That is all.

by Zaphira

Visual description of my mentor.

I have never been more infatuated or terrified of one person.

I walked through the doors of Tapestry right into a wall of blow dryers and people chatting, it was busy and full of energy.

Black, short, natural curls framed her angular, coffee mixed with a little too much cream face. Cruella Devile came into my mind.

I associate rhinestones to little girls or cheap woman from New Jersey, but on Rori they come off as refined and tasteful.

She grabs my hand, hers is warm in the center, her long fingers are cold though. She pulls me around the spa.

There are laugh lines on the corners of her thin, glossed lips. They are pronounced, but not deep. Her life has been enjoyed.

That was over a year ago and today I find myself in her room...waiting. The chair is uncomfortable, or I am uncomfortable. It is the latter.

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Rori Bass. That is all. by Zaphira
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