Marigene Willson's Writing Workshop

WA 2, Draft 1

She floated into the room, my initial glance not drinking in much of her, what seemed like, ordinary outward appearance. As I watched her walk, I noticed that my original impression had been dreadfully wrong. She stood out, as did her bones. She looked as though she had been graceful at one time in her life. But now she dragged her feet lightly across the floor, in a seemingly exhausted saunter. My eyes read over her body, looking through every crevice in her face. Her skin was a tallow, sickly color as though she had not seen the sun for a long time. I looked over her sunken eyes, cold nose, cracked lips. All of her features seemed out of place on her now delicate and bony face. Her eyelids clung over hers pupils, now dulled, as though they had been covered by a coat of grime. I wondered if there had once been a bright, sharp glimmer in them. Her jawbone protruded in a painful way. Her mouth stretched over her teeth in a half smile, an effort to be perceived as happy. My eyes dropped to her collarbones, sharp as needles, skin bruised and fragile. Her chest was flattened, hips agonizingly jutting out from under her clothes, all signs of womanhood had been drowned. Her arms were thin, her veins showing blue under her pallid tissue. But most striking of all, her heart seemed hollow, lost in a way. It took a long time to realize why; she was only a shadow.

posted by Marigene Willson @ 6:29 PM