her flaming locks of Auburn hair blowed in the wind as she put her hand over her smoke, taking a deep drag as she blowed

Her ivory skin shined in the moonlight as her emerald eyes stared into your soul, she scoffed as she saw you on the balcony with her outside the jazz bar

"If it isn't little Mrs Parton?"

She smirked, her voice was like summer rain, so soft. Though it felt like a punch in the gut. She had taken your husband away from you. Even though he wasn't the best...