The Smile
She stands framed by the doorway. Light from behind her picks out her slender form through the flowing shapeless dress. She is short,
slight,
a child.
She is a faerie tale dream.
There she stands, long white hair pulled back and braided in a fox tail. Wide brimmed straw hat balanced precariously on the back of her head. Soft cotton cloth, printed with flowers flowing from her shoulders. She is the image of childish innocence.
She is a faerie tale in flesh.
Skin as white as snow,
lips as red as blood.
Small, thin lips in a childish smirk. A smirk full of mischief. A smirk devoid of ill intent. An ideal of action with no thought to consequences. A world that is always now.
She is a faerie tale child.
So full of innocence and beauty,
so carelessly cruel.
Her face is soft and plump. Her arms are smooth and round. Her fingers short and unmarred. Baby fat gives her curves that bespeak of the woman to come. The beauty of a child. The beauty of the future.
She is an image of faerie tale beauty.
Skin as white as snow,
lips as red as blood.
A giggle issues forth. A liquid bubbling that causes images of endless summers. Of pilfered treats. Of eternal games played. Of endless tricks pulled. A sound that contains the joy of every childhood memory. A sound that hides every childhood fear.
She is a faerie tale.
And then, in the impulsive, unwarranted way of a child, she smiles. A grin broad and beautiful that lights up her face and dimples her cheeks. A smile that contains the essence of all the wonder of childhood. A smile that
continues!
The corners of her mouth continue to pull further and further back. Her dimples disappear as her lips extend, literally splitting her face from ear to ear. And as her blood red lips pull back, thinning and compressing more and more, they reveal her many rows of
sharp
jagged
teeth.
fortunately, i do a ton of these things written. one of these days i should probably collect them all together and publish them. oh well, enjoy.
She stands framed by the doorway. Light from behind her picks out her slender form through the flowing shapeless dress. She is short,
slight,
a child.
She is a faerie tale dream.
There she stands, long white hair pulled back and braided in a fox tail. Wide brimmed straw hat balanced precariously on the back of her head. Soft cotton cloth, printed with flowers flowing from her shoulders. She is the image of childish innocence.
She is a faerie tale in flesh.
Skin as white as snow,
lips as red as blood.
Small, thin lips in a childish smirk. A smirk full of mischief. A smirk devoid of ill intent. An ideal of action with no thought to consequences. A world that is always now.
She is a faerie tale child.
So full of innocence and beauty,
so carelessly cruel.
Her face is soft and plump. Her arms are smooth and round. Her fingers short and unmarred. Baby fat gives her curves that bespeak of the woman to come. The beauty of a child. The beauty of the future.
She is an image of faerie tale beauty.
Skin as white as snow,
lips as red as blood.
A giggle issues forth. A liquid bubbling that causes images of endless summers. Of pilfered treats. Of eternal games played. Of endless tricks pulled. A sound that contains the joy of every childhood memory. A sound that hides every childhood fear.
She is a faerie tale.
And then, in the impulsive, unwarranted way of a child, she smiles. A grin broad and beautiful that lights up her face and dimples her cheeks. A smile that contains the essence of all the wonder of childhood. A smile that
continues!
The corners of her mouth continue to pull further and further back. Her dimples disappear as her lips extend, literally splitting her face from ear to ear. And as her blood red lips pull back, thinning and compressing more and more, they reveal her many rows of
sharp
jagged
teeth.
fortunately, i do a ton of these things written. one of these days i should probably collect them all together and publish them. oh well, enjoy.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
Yes, I think weeding out the dregs of humanity would be good - although with shows like jackass and these other reality tv programs I fear that would be most of the population.
I find your stories, as well as your intelligence, stimulating on a plethora of levels. The gray matter upstairs says "feed me"
One of my favorite Lewis Carroll verses... and I don't know why:
The time has come the walrus said to talk of many things, of shoes and ships and sealing wax and cabbages and kings. And why the sea is boiling hot and whether
xox