There's more to it than size. A female foot could be bigger than mine and still look feminine to me, much like you don't get a recorded feminine voice to sound masculine simply by lowering its pitch more and more.
Then again, I have a poor sense of scale, probably due to my lack of all kinds of experiences. I've been known to scratch my head after seeing someone grow from a little girl into a young woman, because her hands never seemed to grow all that much. Only very slowly did it dawn on me, "No, f**ktard, those aren't a little girl's hands anymore—grown women actually have that kind of petite, smooth and delicious hands. Also, you can stop feeling like a pedophile for liking them."
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The red lake has been forgotten. A dust devil stuns you long enough to shroud forever those last shards of wisdom. The breeze rocking this forlorn wasteland whispers in your ears, “Não resta mais que uma sombra”.