Word: towelled
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...baby now named Tessa Leavitt was born in a motel bathtub on the night of June 18, 2005. Her mother cleaned her, breast-fed her and cut the umbilical cord herself. The next day, the young Hispanic woman swaddled the infant in a white towel and took her to Fire Station 15 in Whittier, Calif., where she rang the doorbell and told the firefighters, "I want to give up my baby." When the paramedics arrived 30 minutes later, she put the child on their gurney and left. "It was eerie," recalls firefighter Kevin Cull. "The ambulance went...
...Recently Buras counseled an 11-year-old whose parents committed suicide. "Even something as small as a towel on the floor can become high drama in the squeezed quarters of FEMA trailer life," she says. At EXCELth, one of the rare community health centers to reopen post-Katrina, she sees people age 6 to 80, whole families together sometimes. Most have never sought help before. EXCELth's medical director Dr. Monir Shalaby says that by his estimates, 40% of the adults they see are taking medication for depression. "Parents are breaking down. A lot of people self-medicating, drinking more...
...does its creative, homegrown Tuscan cuisine. But what ultimately makes this hotel in Porto Ercole, Italy, a don't-miss on the Mediterranean luxury tour is something that you can't quite see or taste. It's in the way that the pool staffer hands you a towel without missing a beat, or[an error occurred while processing this directive] how the sommelier suggests a wine without jamming it down your palate. The only word that can capture this particular brand of indulgence all'Italiana is simpatico: a mix of kindness, likability and just plain fun. Some of that...
...woman, whose name was blotted from the affidavit, told the police that she would completely remove her clothes and begin massaging Epstein’s back, while he lay on a massage table, wearing only a towel. She would then massage his chest, and Epstein would begin to masturbate both himself and the woman...
MIAMI—Lying on my bright orange towel on the gorgeous South Beach sand this past weekend, I heard a plane, looked up at a brilliant blue sky, and read: “God has come. See him. 8 pm.” Although this odd premonition caught my attention, I flipped over, rolled my eyes, and quickly forgot about it. Later that day, I turned on the evening news and finally understood. It featured what at first seemed like another Miami Heat victory celebration—hundreds of people dancing to salsa music, waving flags, and cheering loudly...