[Prompt from http://daily-writing.blogspot.com/ .]
She wore a painted on smile. A da Vinci creation that, at first glance, could have passed off as real. As I admired the craftsmanship behind the straight patches of white and the soft canvas lips, I noticed her eyes were that of a doll’s. They were bright and light from the light of the bathroom. But as with many of the great painters, those eyes were lifeless. They only appeared to be real. No one could instil a soul into a vessel incapable of nurturing it.
Looking into the mirror, I knew that the woman looking back was me but the artfully crafted semblance of normalcy that was her face told an entirely different story.
Advertisements
