Because she was “divinely” gifted with good looks, a “goddess”, so to speak. At times she even solicited attention with feminine charm, like body movements and attire and make up; it was not below her to look at herself in her powder mirror and make faces at herself while she had a conversation with someone she was bored with, including me. But most of the time she wasn’t trying to impress. Because for one thing, she didn’t need an ego, and for another thing, if you breathed or asphyxiated on your own saliva when she brushed up next to you, that was your own lack of self control as far as she was concerned. None of us really knew if she was trying to entice us or just excite us or had no clue at all. It could have been she was bored with life, or needed to satisfy some secret hunger within herself that a sixteen year old girl with cravings beyond her years and experience should know or has. It could be she had an inferiority complex. She had a tormented DNA. I think it’s because she had two different color eyes, a dark brown one and a light brown one, and that gave her a complex. I hate to use the words attractive and feminine as synonyms but from a strictly worldly sense, she was so feminine you wondered if she could really grow old, or if when she died she’d really rot and turn back to dust. She could stand frozen at the bus stop, bundled up in a purple overcoat and a pink toboggan, in a misty snow fall at dawn, and she may as well have been walking down a black and white checkered aisle under a spotlight modeling bathing suits. Her flesh pursued me like that even if I didn’t see it. All she had to do is look at me and butterflies would turn somersaults in my esophagus, float around in my stomach and burst in my appendix. It didn’t matter which eye I looked into either. Either one or I got the flutters. But the two different color eyes made her insecure and that may be why she tortured her mind with insecurities and ours with feminine body language that got our attention. Sometimes. I mean of all places the thing she didn’t like about herself had to be on her face. It’s not like she had a secret only she and her doctor knew about that caused the secrets in her personality only she and her best friends understood. One eye was a sleepy dark brown with a luster in it that seemed to awaken it and the other eye was the same, but was light brown, caramel, without the sleepy sparkle, but had a sweet candy coated glaze over it that mesmerized you even more. Now and then some oaf meeting her the first time would stare and blurt out: “Hey! Did you know your eyes ain’t the same color?” And Jacqueta would get her feelings hurt. Even if no one said anything, she could tell if someone looked at an eye. A streak of pain would flash on her face but she had learned by practice to mask it in micro-tenths of a second.
Posted on: Thu, 19 Sep 2013 16:50:37 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015