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Thursday, December 29, 2016
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Joy.
Peeking out of the doorway into the hall, Joy made sure no one was around and walked into her Mother's room. Standing near the full length mirror, she started at her toe nails. Painted pink, with glitter, they sparkled against her pale skin. Soon her brow furrowed as she studied her slightly protruding stomach against the flowers on her sundress. Placing her hands on her hips, she stood sideways and stared. Seeing her short stature and rounded belly reminded her of Winnie The Pooh.
Up down, touch the ground....
She thought it was silly what fuss was made about stomachs and thighs and all that. Even so, she took a big, deep breath and sucked in. She stared a little longer.
Her blonde hair was in a french braid, but the small pieces that framed her face were already making their escape and curling slighty at her temple and forehead.
Joy is your name, because you are my sunshine.
She wanted to go through her mom's bathroom drawer and put on some mascara and lipgloss, but she dare not. It would only lead to teasing about boys and teenagers. She didn't like being teased, and she didnt want to cry in front of everybody.
Being almost eleven is hard.
Tapping her feet, she began to twirl and watch her dress float gently with the breeze of her motion. It was almost time to go, but she wasn't sure if she was ready.
Ding Dong.
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I started writing this in my head before bed last night, and it stayed with me all day today. I like her.
Up down, touch the ground....
She thought it was silly what fuss was made about stomachs and thighs and all that. Even so, she took a big, deep breath and sucked in. She stared a little longer.
Her blonde hair was in a french braid, but the small pieces that framed her face were already making their escape and curling slighty at her temple and forehead.
Joy is your name, because you are my sunshine.
She wanted to go through her mom's bathroom drawer and put on some mascara and lipgloss, but she dare not. It would only lead to teasing about boys and teenagers. She didn't like being teased, and she didnt want to cry in front of everybody.
Being almost eleven is hard.
Tapping her feet, she began to twirl and watch her dress float gently with the breeze of her motion. It was almost time to go, but she wasn't sure if she was ready.
Ding Dong.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
I started writing this in my head before bed last night, and it stayed with me all day today. I like her.