Tiffany’s Leftovers

Her sophisticated elegance set her apart. And she knew it. Maybe it was just the way she moved. With her head held high, subtly swinging hips and measured stride she didn’t so much walk as swoosh. When she crossed the street not a head remained unturned. To one side she heard a muffled gasp. But she saw him and let her gaze linger. Embarrassed he turned away, cursing his rapidly changing complexion. But flustering young men was all part of the service as an undercover urban goddess. She smiled slightly, wagged her tail just enough and passed by. Just that little bit too close.


SOLD – Personal couture on request