“Why, yes, now I can see how much your beautiful daughter takes after her mother,” he stuttered with a hasty glance at the upstairs window. He hoped that he hadn’t started too visibly, what with that drop of ice-cold perspiration suddenly racing down his spine, and was unspeakably grateful that he hadn’t asked “Mister” Warren whether it was permissible to take Elvira to tea, for her obvious attractions were beckoning him still from where she leaned out of the parlor window below.
Art-Colored Glasses
Original poetry, essays, artworks, photographs & musings on whatever moves me…
Art-Colored Glasses 
What a handsome pair of women!
Off to bed with my smile. Thanks again, Kathryn.
Perhaps one of the ladies has stolen your former mustache???
😀
😉
OMG Kathryn…that’s the best thing I’ve seen all day! 😀
As long as it’s not seen in real life, it’s funny–but boy, you should have seen my grandma’s chin whiskers! I’m quite assiduous on the watch for them myself, as a result. Though my Tante Anna’s Brezhnev-eyebrows were such a sight to behold that they might be worth the cultivation if I become so endowed in later life. 😉
Hormone imbalance can certainly change the atmosphere…
Tell me about it! 😉