Unwoman
There was no point in making spectacles among us.
"You look tired today," Janne comments.
“I look tired everyday,” I say.
“True,” she laughs.
We start walking down the alley, around the corner, I notice a thick smell of melted butter and yeast in the air. It's from a red brick store with a huge glass window and a huge red frame, where you could see girls in blue pastel dresses handing a metal tray or brown paper bag with an oily stain on it to the other woman and girls across the counter, and where the sexy glossy cinnamon roll displaying themselves on the shelves. Inviting.
Bab Populer