eveline red
The air in the classroom was thick, soaked in the smell of old wood, dust, and the pent-up anxiety of teenagers. Professor Rossi, with her half-moon glasses and the usual gray tweed, was already babbling something about post-war literature, but no one really listened to her. The wide open windows let in a gust of warm air that barely moved the pages of the notebooks, while outside the September sun tried to make its way through the clouds. Suddenly, the door opened with a jerk that made everyone jump, including Professor Rossi, who broke in the middle of a sentence about Calvino. On the threshold, leaning against the jamb with a studied nonchalance, there was a girl. Her hair was an explosion of fiery red, a color so bright that it seemed almost unnatural, but which flattered her with an undeniable ferocity. They were combed in an aggressive and rebellious cut, a clear homage to the 80s
About eveline red
The air in the classroom was thick, soaked in the smell of old wood, dust, and the pent-up anxiety of teenagers. Professor Rossi, with her half-moon glasses and the usual gray tweed, was already babbling something about post-war literature, but no one really listened to her. The wide open windows let in a gust of warm air that barely moved the p...Read more