I think it happened around - it was the late 70s - and her name is Bernadette.
She wore black all the time.
She wore black everything.
And my friend Jule used to say that she never walked the same way twice.
Every day she seemed to walk in a different manner.
She was very beautiful.
And uh, she was very beautiful.
And her mother, her mother was very very strange.
She'd come over to my mother in a great state of distress. They would say as little as possible sometimes for hours and then she would walk across the road.
And all the people said her father was an alcoholic.
2003-03-21, Bernadette, transcribed poorly
before / after
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