cheek

“And when I laid down on the floor next to her … she leaned over and started catching the tears, one at a time, as they were rolling down my cheek.”

She winces as a small cannula is delicately inserted into her cheek.

Autochromes possess the light-dappled depth of Impressionist paintings, the powdery precision of pointillism, the honest blushes of butterfly cheeks, and the palpable textures of gleaming silks and gilded velvets.

The air above me kisses my cheeks with a refreshing breeze—the kind of weather that turns on the part of your brain that screams, Let’s have fun!

“Now, as for the Russia/England problem . . .” But the boys had already lost interest and were trying to pat Veronika’s cheeks with their dirty hands.