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Free writes (also prose) The tall, willowy blonde nibbled delicately on the leafy, green salad. Her face was perfectly composed, posture impeccable. A few minutes later she sighs and pushes the salad away. As she stands her dress swirls gracefully around her thighs. Her long, lean legs are beautifully toned. Her muscles in her legs are toned, emphasized by her stilletoes. Every male eye in the room remained glued to her as she glides out of the restaurant. She strolls towards the pier, the wind tearing at her hair, whipping it about her face. As she gazes out to the ocean her mask of confidence slips away replaced by sadness. Silent tears slip down her face as she grips the railing. Shaking with the effort she regains her composure and wipes the tears off her face. She turns away from the rail and walks off towards the town, her confident air restored.
what a gripping portrayal of the masks we all wear--- i wonder if this is based on a real person and are the tears real or did you imagine them for her because of some look in her eye that others may not have noticed...