Opening the once lonely door, there was a hallway that seemed to have just rejoiced with a once depriven necessity. As striking as the first rose in spring, her silky, soft, shiny hair combined with her enticingly exquisite eyes produced a sublime look; it instantly ejected any pressure in the room. Her presence would’ve even made an angry person hopeful.
Withered by time, the plethora of thin liable cracks scattered across the olive-dyed floors and indigo walls with an antique circular pattern ; this house was old enough to live in a pangea . However, there was a skeptical sense of suspicion of this person. Even though she was an aesthetically pleasing model on the front page of a magazine, she carried a repugnant air of deviousness that …show more content…
It showed of a much happier life, lived by someone who was completely free of the following: guilt, shame and trauma. Her long, curly, frizzy brown hair with a quirky vibrant smile was enticing: a fantasy for many guys of her age. Her tracksuit was decorated with numerous rusty and old medals from all types of disciplines: ‘Outstanding high school scientist’, ‘America’s future cosmology cognoscenti’ ; ‘Most accomplished sportswoman in Texas’, ‘No. 1 Tennis player in Texas’ ; ‘Award for artistic originality’, ‘Beaumont’s unparalleled ingenious composer of music’ ; it looked like this person would’ve been a legend in anything she wished to pursue.
“Who is this person?” I asked anxiously.
“It is me,” she exclaimed with a fizzling voice,: much to the dismay of the people she held dear.
“Do you’ve anything anything else for me?” she enquired.
I gave her a letter. She panicked. Opening the letter, her eyes produced a stream of tears. Finally, her composure was broken. Quavering like a mourner, her voice was reduced to a brittle version of a petrified infant: “Thank you for giving me this,” she replied. She shook my comparatively feeble hand; she had a strength found from the depths of her despair. Her fingers formed a tenacious grip on my hands.
She
Withered by time, the plethora of thin liable cracks scattered across the olive-dyed floors and indigo walls with an antique circular pattern ; this house was old enough to live in a pangea . However, there was a skeptical sense of suspicion of this person. Even though she was an aesthetically pleasing model on the front page of a magazine, she carried a repugnant air of deviousness that …show more content…
It showed of a much happier life, lived by someone who was completely free of the following: guilt, shame and trauma. Her long, curly, frizzy brown hair with a quirky vibrant smile was enticing: a fantasy for many guys of her age. Her tracksuit was decorated with numerous rusty and old medals from all types of disciplines: ‘Outstanding high school scientist’, ‘America’s future cosmology cognoscenti’ ; ‘Most accomplished sportswoman in Texas’, ‘No. 1 Tennis player in Texas’ ; ‘Award for artistic originality’, ‘Beaumont’s unparalleled ingenious composer of music’ ; it looked like this person would’ve been a legend in anything she wished to pursue.
“Who is this person?” I asked anxiously.
“It is me,” she exclaimed with a fizzling voice,: much to the dismay of the people she held dear.
“Do you’ve anything anything else for me?” she enquired.
I gave her a letter. She panicked. Opening the letter, her eyes produced a stream of tears. Finally, her composure was broken. Quavering like a mourner, her voice was reduced to a brittle version of a petrified infant: “Thank you for giving me this,” she replied. She shook my comparatively feeble hand; she had a strength found from the depths of her despair. Her fingers formed a tenacious grip on my hands.
She