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February 18, 2011
She is a lifeless woman--dry as the desert she inhabits and bitter as a green pomegranate. Sharp, she is. Full of sharp words and sharp glances.

She treats men with the same slumbering indifference as her desert treats the spring--change is nothing new, and nothing to be bothered about.

But there are tales of her younger years. Never was there a girl more filled with passion. A tree cut down for lumber reduced her to tears. A smile from a stranger would be cause for a dance. And love. Love was the greatest thing she knew.