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This is a young female impersonator ,pictured in 1962, from Havana in Cuba, who simply goes by the name of "Kismet". Kismet is 24 years old, 5 feet 4 inches in height and weighs 150lbs.Kismet got stranded in the US after she was seeking work in Florida, when the revolution broke out and was advised not to return by her father. Kismet became a female impersonator after seeing other mimics in a show in Miami and decided to give it a go in an effort to make more money. Interestingly, Kismet confesses in her letter (transcribed below) that since becoming a performer she wishes to spend all the time representing as female.
The original image appeared in the Nutrix publication, "Letters From Female Impersonators Vol 10" which is available for all in PDF form from The Digital Transgender Archive (www.digitaltransgenderarchive.net/files/pn89d6592). Personally I was astonished by the quality of the resulting image after AI upscaling and enhancement. The clarity and sharpness facilitated a vibrant colourisation. Kismet's love of Latin dancing, pushed me in the red/black themes I selected for her lingerie and her discarded dress.
Like so many of impersonators in these publications, there is little other information about Kismet, but if any of you readers have more details, please get in touch. I'll let her describe her situation herself in her letter
=================
Dear Editor:
Thanks for inviting me to pose for photos to appear in your worthy publication, "Letters from Female Impersonators " in response to your readers requests for more photos of myself and more information on how I first got started in show business. As a female impersonator and exotic &dancer, I was born in Havana, Cuba, twenty-four years ago and am 5 feet 4 inches in height, weighing 150 pounds.
As my father was in business for himself in Havana, I was able to go to high school, where I took up typing and other commercial courses, thinking that it would be a great aid when I left school to enter my father's business of export cigars and tobacco.
I was visiting Miami, Florida, when fighting broke out in Cuba and my father advised me to stay in the United States for the time being. I took a position with a theatrical agency which booked Latin—American dancers and singers for the Miami Beach and Miami night clubs. I could speak and read Spanish and I acted as interpreter for the actors who could not speak the language.
These actors could not speak a word of English but their "sight" acts made them oÄy to play in night clubs as fill-in acts, such as acrobats, tumblers, or doing specialized Spanish or Latin dance routines.
Because I was constantly in the company of members of the theatrical profession, it was natural for me to long to go on the stage and better my position in life instead of remaining a typist and interpreter. In exchange for giving English lessons to these actors, I was given &once instruction by several of the Spanish dance teams, which the agency for whom I worked had booked for a season run in a hotel,
I worked out with both the male and female dancers at night during rehearsals which did not interfere with my regular office work. I soon became quite adept at this type dancing.
order to learn the dance steps, I had to bore row some of the attractive costumes which had plenty of lace and satin on them, with the upper sections of the male costumes almost a replica of the female costume.
In time, I grew to like the life I was leading and since I could not return to Cuba because of the revolution which was still going on, I decided to try out for a new show which had just come over. I answered a call for male dancers and passed. Soon I was worHng steadily in various revues and night clubs as a Spanish dancer.
I worked hard to become more proficient at dancing, which I loved to do. However, the war scare and warm winter weather up North frightened a lot of tourists and winter visitors away from the Miami Beach Hotels. Soon some of these hotels closed up or discontinued lavish floor shows to cut down on expenses and I found myself out of work. There was now little work for Spanish dancers like myself.
On my nights off, which were many, I used to frequent a night club in Miami Beach which featured female impersonators as a lure for the tourist trade. After seeing how lovely and beautiful the men looked dressed up as females, and evidently enjoying themselves, I decided to try to do the same for my own amusement—just as a gag.
I had heard about the fame of Coccinelle, the well-known Parisian dancer who had made a fortune as a female impersonator and I figured if he could do it and get away with it, earning a lot of money, why shouldn't t I do the same thing? I took the name of 'KISMET" because my real name is too long to go on a marquee and it was "fate" that made me decide to become a female impersonator.
My past theatrical experience in stage makeup was extremely helpful and I was able to do a passable job of applying cosmetics. Luckily for me, I was able to get by in my new field of female impersonation, until I became experienced enough for my makeup to pass on close inspection. As I was a dancer, rather than a singer or showgirl in the show, with plenty of fast action movements which distracted attention away from my face, I was accepted with no trouble as a female.
As I gained more experience, I paid more attention to my gowns and dresses in my efforts to become a featured performer in the show world of female impersonation. Daring this beginning of my career as a female impersonator— tor, I was busy learning all I could on how to dress, talk in a low tone of voice, apply cosmetics— to look like a real woman and act like one. The most difficult item was in setting my dark— haired wig to the latest feminine styles but I did my best,
My natural black hair wag cut Short, almost crew—cut, and this I soaped down with a thick solution of detergent and a hair grooming aid, which when it dried kept my real hair down so that it would not interfere with the inside contours of my wig. The soap helped keep my hair slick and made it easy for me to slip on the lovely black-haired wig.
The wig changed my personality from an ordinary male to a nice—looking female. The spirit gum held the hairlace of the wig down tight on my forehead until it was time to be removed.
I have experimented with several types of wigs and found that human hair wigs, although they are a great deal more expensive, are the best of all to use instead of nylon or other artificial types of hair.
Real hair can be easily set into bewitching, demure, daring or latest style of glamorous hair—do. Once it is sprayed with a quick-drying lacquer, it would stay that way for a long time, thus saving time—consuming and expensive trips to the beauty parlor. Many ersatz wigs offered for sale which are not made from human can be used of course, but they do not take to hair spray as well as real hair and they become mated and unsightly. Nor do the cheaper wigs have the same soft luxurious lovely feel that human hair has, which is why I advise purchasing real hair wigs, if possible.
I have found, since I have become a professional— femme mimic, that form-fitting evening gowns that come all the way down to the slipper tops are best, since they hide any imperfect leg muscle bulges, which are a sure tip-off to one's s real identity.
Since turning professional, I have a constant urge to dress up as a female all the time. I spend a great deal of the money I earn in purchasing new dresses, fur pieces and rhinestone costume jewelry.
A fine wardrobe is a most essential part of any femme mimic t s wardrobe and Like females, one cannot be seen too often in the same dress or outfit. That is why, after a while, we imper— sonators will swap smart-looking well-cut gowns that we have worn only slightly for other good unwanted gowns and dresses with the other members of the show, so long as the exchanged item is in the latest style and not outmoded. In this way, we are always in the height of fashion.
To overcome the fact that current feminine street wear shoes which feature tapered toes are often narrow in width, I usually take a size larger shoe with an E width and stuff soft sponge rubber in the toe section, so that the shoe will fit better and not fall off when walking. The one fear that I had in the back of my mind when going on stage to perform was that I would stumble on the spike-heeled shoes which I usually wore to build up my height and thus pitch headlong into the stage lights !
Fortunately, this has never happened but there is always the chance that some member of the troupe would crowd you off the tiny stages of night clubs onto the top of a patrons table at ringside. However, once on stage dressed up as a girl, the performer is kept so busy working, listening for music cues, keeping in the spotlight and dancing, that all fears vanish and a happy glow comes over him as the audience's applause informs him that all is going well.
I am very happy that my decision to turn female impersonator has worked out so well and the fact that I like looking like a girl all the time has helped me out a great deal. With best wishes to you and your vast army of readers.
Sincerely yours,
"KISMET"
================
TECHY STUFF:
The original screen grab was 335x616 pixels. This was upscaled and enhanced by a factor of three resulting in an image 1005x1848. The upscaling was performed by the excellent open source software "Upscayl" (www.upscayl.org/), I then used the open source image editor GIMP (www.gimp.org/) to convert to greyscale and then back to RGB for colourisation. Further white balancing and contrast adjustments were also performed in GIMP before exporting the image you see here as a JPG.
Disclaimer: The digital enhancements to the original are all my own work, plus (in this case) use of AI enhancement. Any such unauthorised use (without prior permission) for that aspect of the work will be considered a violation of my partial copyright. Where the original item is shown, it is done so purely for comparative purposes only.
There are different kinds of Upscalings - here is used leonardo.ai - universal upscaler
and the standard 4K in Gencraft ai
The study below was derived from facts uncovered while doing research
for the following Doctoral dissertation:
Light to the shadows of their mind:
Criminal tactics and strategies
Criminology Department Dept.
Chatwick University
**************************** Story ***************************
A full moon peeks through the heavy fall clouds, its rays transcending down and bathing in a soft light, the over grown, untended, remains of what once had been a proper English garden. Its soft rays catch the old moss roses, lilacs, and various other old growth flowers, their once still vibrant colours faded now that the fall is approaching.
But something still is vibrant here, brightly flashing a colourful fire as it moves along an old flagstone path.
Two feminine figures in fancy dress move guardedly along the path, gown and jewels are the source of the added fiery colours now caught by the full harvest moon’s rays. The rustle of satin is heard as a long, slinky gown sweeps along the leaf littered flagstone path at the spiked heels of its owners feet. Soft voices carry in murmurs as they walk, breaking up what, until a few minutes, ago had been the hushed silence brought upon by the notice of the pair by the gardens inhabitants.
The twosome finally reaches an old garden shed, its weather-beaten door half ajar, broken remnants of glass still hang in its front window; some ancient, rusty tools still lay up along its side wall. As they stand there the younger one suddenly jumps, giving a little gasp. What is it dear? her companion asks sweetly. She looks into her companions’ deep mesmerizing brown eyes, someone is moving along that path over there, on the other side of the pond. Mother said that no one should be outdoors on this side of town, she add, worry now creeping up on her. The older woman turns her head abruptly, I see him, you had better wait her, and I’ll make sure that whoever it is will not bother us.
A cop on his beat is seen walking along the outer path that lines the old garden leading to the manor house at the opposite end of what is now an inner city block. He jumps a little as a figure steps out of the mist that has now started to spread from a small pond the he is walking by.
Mae looks back at the garden shed that now sits back in the woods a little ways; her youthful companion’s colourful gown is vibrant against the faded walls of the shed. She turns away and looks at the copper walking towards her, unaware as of yet that he is no longer alone. Mae walks out of the mist and onto the sidewalk, noticing with satisfaction that she has startled him. She approaches and walks past the stern copper, as she does Mae tosses his way the sorta glance that she knew would pique the coppers natural distrust, making him turn to follow and see what mischief was going on!
Her long hair streaming down her back, creating a halo in the moonlit garden, her shimmering long jeweled earrings sway gently, watches as her companion walk up to the figure on the path. She is suddenly self-aware of how she is dressed, and how vulnerable they are out here alone, away from the bright lights and safety of the manor they had left some ten minutes ago. She hopes the figure isn’t someone nasty who will harm her friend. Her back is to the old door of the shed. The clouds again cover the moon. The young girl shivers, though it really is not that cold out. Suddenly a quick shadow emerges, a hand is clasped over her mouth, another grabs her by her silky waist, and she is pulled struggling into the darkness of the shed, vanishing from sight like the moon above her. Gradually the night voices of the garden return, chirping, hooting, and such. But as for the garden shed, sounds are no longer heard from within…..
What Led to This?
*************************************************************************************
It had been the boys who had first spotted the ladies in colorfully long shiny gowns. Those gowns fluidly rustling along shapely figures crossing the street leading to ornate front doors of the old Hampton East club Mansion. But it had been their “sparklers” the glittering jewelry the ladies all seemed to be temptingly showing off, that had made their mouths wolfishly drool.
But, what they had seen when stealing peeks through slits in a velvet curtained window, had made them run to find Mae. They then breathlessly babbled on about the halfcocked, half-baked scheme they had dreamed up. “Even the young’uns had jools” they had excitedly told Mae. She figured that most of it was probably paste, who wears anything of value on the eastside she thought to herself. But just a glimmer of a possibility began to take seed, as she maternally continued to listen to the excited pair.
Mae decided to humor the pair of excitable petty thieves, she owed them some favors anyway, and Mae hated leaving a debt unpaid. Besides, business had been slow lately; it seemed that no one well to do these days need their fortune read. So, for no rhythm or reason other than to see what all the chatter had been about, Mae crashed the upscale event. She slipped inside through the large matching oak doors, without even a second glance from the pensioner guard wearing a loose uniform “manning” the entrance.
Mae was amazed, even she could not have predicted the marvelous displays of wealth, so tantalizingly close, and yet seemingly so far out of reach. Even the dangling “jools” worn with careless abandon by the “Young’uns” mostly 18 through 20 year olds, with a few 16 and 17 year olds peppered in among the multitude of guests, appeared to be the real McCoy!
Mae was also surprised that she had been able to get this far, and so had not even begun to think of ways to profit from the situation. A condition that was going to have to be quickly rectified Mae told herself. Itching to somehow lay her greedy hands on some of the expensive jewels she observed being beckoningly worn by the female guests in attendance. Like the royal appearing lady she was just now walking past. She was in an elegantly flowing purple gown, dripping in gems, especially the small diamonds that were glistening on the thin tiara that held up the rich girl’s luxuriantly long hair.
All in all, Mae was glad she had positioned the boys to wait in the old garden shed, promising it would be worth their while. Mainly Mae had wanted to keep them out of mischief, too avoid having them upset her apple cart, and it appeared to have been a canny move on her part, as she surveyed a young lady with a long flowing mane of hair sweeping by, causing Mae to perk up with interest.
So, it was still with no real purpose in mind yet, that Mae had started to shadow the fetchingly gowned young lady of about nineteen who was timidly working her way , weaving in and out amongst the groups of happily chatting guests. Mae’s desire was a closer scrutiny of the prettily dressed young girl’s savory fiery ruby jewelry, so enticingly slippery upon her sweat glistened figure.
***********************
Mae had always been attracted to rubies ever since a poshly dressed young mother had wandered into the carnival sideshow that Mae had been working some years prior. Mae had been the first to try for a share of the young Mother’s dazzling jewelry after spying her predicament from the interior of her tent.
The obviously well-to-do young Mother had been unwisely left alone to tend to a colicky baby. Mae had forced herself on the wretched Mother, using the pretense of giving a helping hand. Unscrupulously, Mae had seized the opportunity to check along the young Mother’s thick satiny clothes for any valuables.
Passing up on a temptingly lovely, lengthy dangling pendent, Mae’s fingers instead whisked down along the slick long sleeve of the young mother’s arm, as all her attention was being given to the thrashing infant. Passing over a thick braided gold bracelet, Mae’s fingers darted to the young ladies’ left ring finger.
The harried Mother struggled to keep a tight hold on the silken clad infant squirming in her mother’s satin covered arms. As the thrashing child bawled, the mother, finding herself being handicapped by the long sleeved slippery satin blouse she wearing was unable to really pay attention to anything else going on around her. Therefore, Mae was easily able to slip off the invitingly large ruby and diamond engagement ring from the mother’s ring finger, conveniently tear moistened from the squealing infants sobbing.
Ring in hand, Mae then finally listened to the mother’s pleas she didn’t need any help, quit caressing down her tingling attire, and retreated to the dark depths of her tent to watch the rest of the drama unfold.
By the time the young mother had gotten her squalling infant daughter to sleep she had fended off about a dozen additional hands offering to help. Mae had watched with professional interest as some of those hands had cunningly been searching the young lady for anything of value…
Mae observed that the distracted mother’s pendent had been nicked next, easily unclasped and slipped away from the ruffled throat of her glossy blouse! Then, as the mother was bent over the baby’s stroller, her long dangling earrings (the pair!) had been whisked away from out of her long mane of straight hair. Soon followed in quick session by the jeweled pin from her satin ascot, her wrists thick braided gold bracelet, a gold pinky ring, and the contents of her velvet purse. Even the mahogany rattle, and silver pacifier had been plucked from the now sleeping infants hand and mouth as her mother’s shiny back had been turned while searching about for the her babies vanished ermine blanket. All in all a very masterful and complete plucking of the erstwhile pretty hen and her downy chick, Mae thought smugly, for nothing else had been as grand as the ruby ring that Mae had slipped off first.
Now, there were still occasions where Mae dared to wear the magnificent ring, but tonight, had decidedly not been one of those occasions.
(Editor’s note:
The incident Mae instigated at the Carnival was not an original part of her story line
It was actually lifted by our author based upon similar experiences of one Lady Eileen St’D , Surry 1910)
************************
Mae plotted a way to at least grab this girl’s attention for a closer look, and so she moved in such a fashion to make it a possibility. At the same time the nineteen year old turned her head away, her long hair swirling to behind her back as someone called out a name. Mae broke off her approach and stood nearby, filing away the girls name for future reference. (It had always amazed Mae that just knowing a person’s name could break down barriers and inspire confidence when a stranger used it. ) Mae watched as an older model of the young girl approached, dressed in a glossy satin gown of mint green and laden with shimmering emerald encrusted jewels. She stuck a finger under the girls nose. Mae followed it, the gold ring she was wearing of a serpent encircling her finger with bright emerald eyes, mystifying her.
The lady lectured her daughter on wandering off , especially when it was only her and her Auntie there to watch her. Mae saw the mothers eyes travel towards the regal lady in the purple gown and tiara. Losing interest Mae wandered off, not caring to hear the rest. She knew a blind alley when she saw one. She paused; she also recognized other quarry when she saw it… A lady wearing a flowing gown of red silk was standing off to one side. Shy and uncomfortable, she was the epitome of a Wall-flower, one who attracted little or no attention, or luck, unless it was of the unfortunately bad kind. One who Mae knew she would have to meet.
Mae walked up to her, and began a conversation. It started out uncomfortably, but Mae soon won her over, enchanting the edgy lady enough so that she actually, with a little hesitation, allowed Mae to pick up her palm: believing it was with the the intention of reading her fortune. As the girl was told that fortune, the mousey miss was totally caught under the enchantment of Mae’s eyes and sing-song way of speaking. Mae could see that she had captured the girl’s imagination as she wove her fortune telling around her like a spider would weave its silky web. Then, with delight, Mae saw a special gleam in the girl’s eyes that she knew all too well. A look she had seen before in previous clients, one that told her they were no longer completely caring of what was going on around them.
Mae ever so slightly tightens her grip on the palm she held. Than, with baited breath, Mae began to work a jeweled ring over the knuckle of a warm slender finger , her practiced eye watching the girls face for any sign that she was catching on to what Mae was up to! Mae smiled broadly as she had a habit of doing when one of her wicked schemes was coming to fruitation. The girl smiled impishly in response, totally misinterpreting what that smile stood for. Never in her wildest dreams would she have guessed what this nice lady: with the deep black eyes from which she could not pull away from, who was so pleasantly stroking her palms while telling her fortune so enjoyably, was smiling about! Nor did she have the slightest of inklings that her Grandmother’s pretty ring was going to vanish!
Mae suddenly felt a noticeable vibe wash over her, and she chanced a look around her. Along a back wall was a row of palm trees, in-between them were a series of small stone benches. A solo figure was walking along them, a slinky, long soft gown, fell flowing down to her feet. The figure of the girl whose name Mae now knew. Mae turned her full attention back to the task at hand, easily maneuvering her captive audience so that the wall was now in her full view. Over a silken shoulder Mae watched as the young miss made her slinky way into a powder room, disappearing with a muted swishing of her gown. . Suddenly Mae had an epiphany, realizing exactly how to ensnare the pretty little miss into her web, at the center of which dangled the old garden shed where there were debts to be paid!
Mae finished her “business” with the shy wall-flower, convincing her to go one her way now that her fortunes were assured to be taking a turn for the “better.” She moved off happily enough, glad that she had met the charming stranger, falling for Mae’s story hook, line and ring less finger!
Keeping an eye on the retreating lady as she swept away, Mae headed towards a stone bench that sat near the back exit leading to the old garden, a stone bench that was in a direct line to the approach that the young miss should be taking on her journey back from the powder room. Mae waited, and when she saw her victim open the door, she buried her hands in her face and acted like she was sobbing, all the while watching the girls approach through a crack made by her fingers.
The girl stopped, You okay Ma’am, she asked with genuine, childishly innocent, concern ( as Mae had predicted), Mae jumped like she had not noticed the girl, and looking up into her face, she called the girl by name, starting to spin a new web of deceit. The young miss offered Mae her embroidered silk handkerchief, which she gladly accepted, holding the girls well ringed fingers for a second showing her gratification. While “drying”her eyes, Mae went into her story full throttle; she knew there would not be much time.
The young miss, nervously looked around, as she played with her shiny necklace, holding it with slender ringed fingers , as she innocently listened to the captivating dark haired stranger. Mae, for a second blinded as the diamonds and rubies flashed in the light, smiled inwardly. Overly pretty teenage girls were so naïve and easy to manipulate, she thought, while weaving another , totally different type of story, then the one she had fed the flowing red silked wall flower.
Mae accurately interpreted the reveries of the young miss now in Mae’s clutches. Now under different circumstances the tale that Mae fed the girl would have not gotten her anywhere. But the fact Mae knew the girls name, knew how to make use of the exchange she had witnessewd between the girl and her mother, and also possessed some knowledge of what attracts a young ladies fancy, the circumstances worked wonderfully in her favor. Then, add in Mae’s fortune telling abilities, and the poor, beautifully adorned soul never stood a chance
Mae hit her with all the talent of a quick change artist. And soon Mae was had lured the girl into following her out the exit and walk with her out into the darkened garden. It happened quite literally before the young thing could catch her breath, or clearly think things through. She had totally fallen for the fortune teller’s fairy tale, and now believed she was aiding this lady in distress, as she believed Mae to be. The young miss, more than a little bewildered, walked obediently alongside Mae, under her dark spell, as they made their way ever closer to a seemingly quiet old garden shed.
Mae looked at the girl now walking next to her, innocently unaware of the fact that she had been led out here for one reason only. Totally oblivious to the fact that she now presented nothing more than to the seemingly sweet lady walking next to her than the value of her expensively flowing gown, the bright jewels she was wearing, and the contents of the small purse dangling by her side. Mae smiled to herself, knowing that in the greenhouse her two muggers would miss nothing, the young girls jewels, , fat silken purse, even the gown would all fetch a sweet price when peddled.
It was when they had reached that shed, that Mae’s captive companion had spotted the figure walking along the path by the pond. A figure that Mae knew she would m have to take care of, else risk having her carefully wrought plan fall to pieces…
Led to This:
******************************************************************************
Mae looked back and smiled smugly at the copper hot on her heels. Someone is going to be in trouble for leaving his post she thought. Just a couple more blocks should give them enough time in the greenhouse, and then Mae would easily give this flatfoot the slip. Mae’s mind went deliciously back to what should now be happening to the luckless lady in the long shiny gown, and how much Mae’s cut of the take would amount to. It was too bad she would miss the boys at work; Mae did so enjoy watching a good mugging.
As Mae happily led the harness bull away from the garden she marveled over her good fortune, wondering over how things had worked to her benefit. As she did she found herself walking along a block populated with small pubs. At the end of which lay an alley which Mae was going to use as passage to slip away from the copper. By then he would then be safely away from the old gardens. Mae would than circle back. She knew the boys would be finishing their job, but she did not want them to leave without her. She was going to take personal possession of the girls most valuable items. There was no way she was going to trust the two nimble headed crooks with not being cheated out of a fair price for the girl’s jewels.
It was as she reached the alleyway and looked back that she realized the copper was no longer tailing her. She swore to herself, what had happened? She cautiously backtracked, looking into the windows of the pubs as she passed. She stopped at one she knew, one appropriately, in Mae’s mind, named the Hook and Fiddle. It was their that she spotted her lost cop, cradling a beer, and sitting next to tall man at a back table.
Mae headed back on her way. She indistinctively knew that the copper would be occupied for a while. Mainly because she knew the cut of man he was sitting next to. Renauld, a man whose hands touched everything from the rackets, extortion, blackmail, down to trafficking and kidnapping, Renauld, to whom Mae owed some personal favors.
As Mae reached the sidewalk where she had first met the copper, she hastened her step. It would not be long before the girl’s bejeweled mother would be noticing her daughter’s absence…… Mae suddenly stopped, freezing in her tracks. A slow grin spread across her appealing face.
The epiphany that had made Mae stop to think contained the seed of a plan, that was in her opinion, brilliant. The mother should have noticed her daughters absence, and what if someone ,Mae, were to find the wealthy , overbearing lady, as she searched and helpfully divulged to her just what her daughter had been up to. Sneaking off into the garden with a young man, of all the nerve…why I would bet the pair of them is inside the old garden shed in the back snogging away as we speak.
Mae, with a quick stop over at the shed to check on things, hurried back to the manor. And best of all she thought, licking her lips in savoring anticipation as she fine-tuned the story she would use, best of all…, Ladies of that ilk always travel in pairs…
40 minutes later:
Three shadowy figures emerge from an old dilapidated garden shed. Two run off carrying small bundles under their arms. A third follows, taking a look back inside, closes the door and walks almost serenely off in the opposite direction. Something glistens from a finger as the moon once again peeks cautiously from the dark clouds overhead.
*************************************************************************************
Addendum est
In a smoke filled pub that he owns, a man, wicked, is puffing on a long black cigar. He is seated alone at the back table where he has been holding court that late evening.
The door opens and a female enters. Looking neither left nor right she heads directly to the man’s table.
Wotcher, he says, with perhaps a trace of compassion in an otherwise traditionally unemotionally stern deep voice. He spots the ring she is wearing, a gold serpent enter twined around her finger, its arrow shaped head home to a pair of flickering green emerald eyes.
What fresh wickedness have you been up to this evening he asks her expectantly? Adding, even you shouldn’t be sporting something like that around this area.
Mae meets his gaze, knowing full well she had taken a risk wearing the ring. But she knew that she had to make use of it to gain Renauld’s interest quickly, If game, he would not have much time…..
For if Renauld took the bait, not only would Mae be squared with Renauld, but also probably now be in his debt. For as much a Mae loathed to be in debt to someone, she loved to be owed one……
Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
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DISCLAIMER
All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
********************************************************************************
August 9th, 2008 - Saturday
Saturday's @ Bar 41
South Beach socialites all head to Glass at the Forge when the evening agenda calls for a night of upscale lounging. Glass is steeped in Hollywood history, starting off previously as a cigar lounge with private humidors for the likes of Oliver Stone and Bono. The venue was transformed when owner Shareef Malnik teamed up with Miami designer Allison Spear to create an upscale lounge space that packs in a star-studded crowd.
Published by Hitogram Media Inc - www.hitogram.com - All Rights
Reserved, Copyright 2008, www.eyesonmiami.com
August 9th, 2008 - Saturday
Saturday's @ Bar 41
South Beach socialites all head to Glass at the Forge when the evening agenda calls for a night of upscale lounging. Glass is steeped in Hollywood history, starting off previously as a cigar lounge with private humidors for the likes of Oliver Stone and Bono. The venue was transformed when owner Shareef Malnik teamed up with Miami designer Allison Spear to create an upscale lounge space that packs in a star-studded crowd.
Published by Hitogram Media Inc - www.hitogram.com - All Rights
Reserved, Copyright 2008, www.eyesonmiami.com
T H E - U L T I M A T E - G U I D E - T O - M I A M : City's
Premiere Night Life Source
Updated daily, visit our site to get the latest on Miami events and nightlife.
Download your pictures for free
August 9th, 2008 - Saturday
Saturday's @ Bar 41
South Beach socialites all head to Glass at the Forge when the evening agenda calls for a night of upscale lounging. Glass is steeped in Hollywood history, starting off previously as a cigar lounge with private humidors for the likes of Oliver Stone and Bono. The venue was transformed when owner Shareef Malnik teamed up with Miami designer Allison Spear to create an upscale lounge space that packs in a star-studded crowd.
Published by Hitogram Media Inc - www.hitogram.com - All Rights
Reserved, Copyright 2008, www.eyesonmiami.com
T H E - U L T I M A T E - G U I D E - T O - M I A M : City's
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August 9th, 2008 - Saturday
Saturday's @ Bar 41
South Beach socialites all head to Glass at the Forge when the evening agenda calls for a night of upscale lounging. Glass is steeped in Hollywood history, starting off previously as a cigar lounge with private humidors for the likes of Oliver Stone and Bono. The venue was transformed when owner Shareef Malnik teamed up with Miami designer Allison Spear to create an upscale lounge space that packs in a star-studded crowd.
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This computer-illustrated quilt was completed on Electric Quilt software. I haven't made this exact quilt up yet, though you can see the design with smaller blocks and more borders in a four-color charity quilt top here: www.flickr.com/photos/allthatpatchwork/5717847610/
This is an "original" arrangement, meaning I came up with it without seeing anyone else's similar design, but it is so simple that I'm sure hundreds of others have come up with a similar design. Feel free to copy this one, just don't sell the pattern.
The quilt uses 48 blocks of half-square triangles, 44 of which are triangles of light and dark and 4 of which are two contrasting darks. I expect to use eight or nine inch blocks when I make this design.
Estimated yardage for a quilt using 8-inch finished size blocks and finishing 61" x 81", assuming a usable width of 42 inches for all fabrics:.
A total of about 1.75 yards dark scraps for 52 triangles
A total of about 1½ yards light scraps for 44 triangles
5/8 yard for inner border (requires piecing. Cut 2 inches wide to finish 1½ inches wide)
1-7/8 yard dark for outer border (requires piecing. Cut side borders 5½ inches wide to finish 5" and cut top and bottom borders 7½" to finish 7".
Additional fabric for binding.
Boy, what I would do to have that house! Having just passed Mystery Point, Train 292 sounds off for Manitou station. The complex on the hill above sure seems like a nice spot for a train buff to live.
Boys playing baseball amid the rubble of a collapsed building. Havana, Cuba, April, 2015.
Only the street shots - thestreetzine.blogspot.com/
Bellagio is a hotel and casino on the Las Vegas Strip in Paradise, Nevada. It is owned by MGM Resorts International and was built on the site of the demolished Dunes hotel and casino.
Inspired by the Lake Como town of Bellagio in Italy, Bellagio is famed for its elegance. One of its most notable features is an 8-acre (3.2 ha) lake between the building and the Strip, which houses the Fountains of Bellagio, a large dancing water fountain synchronized to music.
Inside Bellagio, Dale Chihuly's Fiori di Como, composed of over 2,000 hand-blown glass flowers, covers 2,000 sq ft (190 m2) of the lobby ceiling. Bellagio is home to Cirque du Soleil's aquatic production "O".
The main (original) tower of Bellagio, with 3,015 rooms, has 36 floors and a height of 508 ft (151 m). The Spa Tower, which stands to the south of the main tower, has 33 floors, a height of 392 ft (119 m), and contains 935 rooms.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bellagio_(hotel_and_casino)
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wikipedia:Text_of_Creative_Commons_...