I recognized her eyes, even though I'd never seen her before, except maybe in my drawings. She wasn't remarkably pretty, but the way her expressions fluidly swept across her face was intoxicating. I stared, transfixed. Her words were flavorful, and she mulled them around in her mouth before wafting them casually through the air -- as if she didn't understand her power. She was the palatable mixture of plain and pretty, boring and fascinating. She was mild and yet very disturbing. She moved me because I hated her without knowing her and wanted to love her intimately.
Between us, an insomniac questioning sanity and a modest lovable blogger, sat a thousand unknowable miles and a computer screen. I whispered her name and knew she would never hear it.
No comments:
Post a Comment