At first glance, I classified the woman across the aisle as beautiful, gorgeous even.

Not wanting to seem rude, I avoided a full-on stare, but the glimpses I snuck whilst appearing to examine the landscape passing the carriage window translated to my brain bits and pieces of her countenance. I fitted the pieces together mentally to receive a complete picture of her and recanted my initial classification. Strictly speaking, she may not pass for gorgeous: in profile, her nose rested a bit on the masculine side if one were being completely truthful. Her cheeks appeared slightly too round for her facial proportions. A bump on the right side of her face suggested a recent encounter with possibly a mosquito or an insect of some sort.

The dark green hooded cloak covering her form hid the shape of her body and all but a few strands of her lightly colored hair. I hesitated to name the hair color. Was it brown? No, too light. But certainly not blond. Dishwater blond. I have heard others use the term, and it fit in this case. She seemed lost in thought, her barely pink lips a non-committal line turning slightly down in repose. Because her gaze remained focused out the window, I was unable to determine her eye color, but her pale lashes caught a gleam of sunlight and glowed golden.

Too late, I realized her traveling companion had noticed my interest. Our eyes met, mine attempting to convey boredom with the journey and the monotonous clopping of the horses hooves, hers flashing a warning akin to what I imagine a she-bear's eyes would posses just before rearing up on its hind legs and walloping a man. I dropped my gaze to my lap and examined my trouser legs while the horses clopped ever northward.

Part Two
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4 Responses

  1. you have interesting thoughts. i'm a fellow "missy" blogger and just came across your blog.

  2. hi again! thanks for the link...i've been listening all day! i love it! and your mr wonderful is one lucky guy to have you and it is encouraging to see how people out there are happy in love.

    a note on your thoughts: no matter how secure and how pretty you are, you always have thoughts..always comparing..making up stories for other people in your head.

  3. Beth Says:

    Hmmm....I have a story that I think about just before going to sleep. My "heroine" is a sweet young lady, her man is wonderful and I NEVER let them do anything unkind or sinful.
    One of these days, I'd like to write it down. Right now, they're just sitting in front of a fireplace with a sick little sister while all the rest of the family are sledding. I suppose they'll come home before too long but NOT before the young man realizes he has fallen in love with the little neighbor girl...

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