Wednesday, November 05, 2014

Moving Portraits : Mornings and Women.

On my way to work, I saw her from a distance.

She was tall, light skinned with the right curve of hip. She caught my eye.

Her gait was jagged. She was staggering. A man gently led her along with a wry smile on his face. She was like a sheep led to slaughter. She couldn't look up. Her eyes were suspended in nothingness. She was in a deep stupor. The moment I passed by her, the fumes proved it was stupor.

It was almost 7am.

Was this man her brother? Did she have a father? A mother, sister or friend? Why was she in the middle of town at six in the morning looking like a sponge with limbs? Smelling like a brewery despite having the look of a princess?

Pangs in my chest. I wondered, in our attempts to fly without wings do we throw out reason and caution and go straight for the deep end? Why was she here? The only question I could ask was why.

She stood out because she did not look like the kind of person who would do this kind of thing. Yet again, looks are deceiving. I looked back one last time at the girl, and the man holding her hand looked back. I saw a hunter collecting his prey.


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pixabay.com

She's sitting on a woman's laps. Resting her back into her chest. She has a white knitted sweater on.

Her hair is braided and ornamented with brown, cream, lavender and black beads. Her eyes are looking through the window casually. She's not really focusing on anything; she just lets the day show her what the day wants to show.

The lady is holding a small bag. Mickey Mouse is on the side of it. There must be a bottle of juice and a container with biscuits in it. That's what I used to take to school at that time. Though, then it used to be in baskets.

However, there is something in her hand. She is holding it gently and softly, making sure not to bring any damage to it. Her eyes are not on it but clearly her thoughts are. It is placed like a jewel in her hand. The white flower is her gem right now, the little girl on her way to school.

Innocence.

Moving Portraits. My eyes keep seeing more.
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