I’m kicking back on my mandatory union smoke break and enjoying the scene (not the scenery, but the scene). She’s sharp, super hot and flaunts her intoxicating power like a subtle perfume, invisible but ever so present. I however, am impervious, hard as stone and unbreakable, I assume, as I am made of sand, stone and earth. I’m also made from man and man’s imperfections. Dare I stare another moment?
Part of “Brooklyn Tales” Show
