A Lesbian Stranger in a Strange Land
The soughing, she loved that word, the soughing of the fir trees overhead. The intermittent plop plop of the tint cones as they hit the soft moss-laden needles covering the ground.
The soughing, she loved that word, the soughing of the fir trees overhead. The intermittent plop plop of the tint cones as they hit the soft moss-laden needles covering the ground.