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Is this what travelling is about then, you ghosting through other people's lives, only trying one flavour of ice cream at a time?---
Discovered a girl with the most beautiful face today. This time she was a sales assistant at some stark, sleek-looking department store, enshrined within one of those grand shopping emporiums on Oxford Street. The store itself was quite inconspicuous, tucked away in a corner and largely unnoticed by the tourists and holidaymakers. I had stepped inside momentarily, partly out of curiosity, mostly to escape the cold when her simple figure, lovely amid the clamour of gold and silver, caught my eye - I watched her for a while from across the busy vestibule. She wore a matte black skirt and a plain white shirt, sleeves folded up to her elbows. Her hair stopped just short of her shoulders - Indian ink against the soft cream of her skin. Her head was slightly bent, intent on her chores while her hands worked quietly and efficiently, arranging articles of clothing and cutlery. It was strangely calming, the way her hands moved - her actions so sure and serene.
"Hello sir, can I help you with anything?" beamed a lady in smart business dress, her friendly face guarded by fiercely angular features. I turned round to face her and smiled back politely. I told her thanks, but it was okay. She raised her eyebrows but kept smiling. "Just looking," I said.
The assistant saw you stalking a staff member
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