Her hair a rich, chocolate colour, with hints of honey dripping down to the tips. It cascades in flowing curls down to her hips, where they sway at any little gust of wind. Each carefree wave is sprinkled with pinchs of white snow like pieces of forgotten cloud.They settle there before dissolving into nothing as if they weren't there at all. Her eyes, an ice-shattering shade of blue, the type you can't look at too long incase you freeze, mid-glance. They have a pure, cold, glittering light filtering through them, the kind that makes you wonder what she's seen in her life-time. Her eye-lashes, soft and tinted with mascara, frame them, illustrating the boldness of her eyes. She flaunts rougé lipstick, presenting her petite, plump lips. A smile tugs at the corner of them, as if remembering a joke that she heard and now, finally understands. She's pleasingly skinny, not the type that barely has a side profile. She's well dressed in a fluffy coat, jeans and brown boots. If I was asked what she wore best, it would be the content look on her face. She's so carefree, so un-phased by whatever anyone has to say. Her body is relaxed, brimming in silence, like someone has switched off her brain and only left the peaceful thoughts.
She sits there.
Perched on a wall, she lets her legs swing to and fro-swimming in her own perfection. She holds in her hand, a steaming cup of coffee. Every so often she blows into her cup and watches the ripples she created, flourish into something bigger until they finally disappear. Vapour evaporates from the thick, dark liquid, rising and settling on her nose, where it soon turns to water and trickles down the bridge until it drops to the bed of her lips and keeps travelling. Some vapour, rises past her nose and sails away, dissolving into the atmosphere. She's surrounded by people carrying bags, dragging moaning children and hauling boxes. She looks at each one, as if trying to figure out their life story. Her brow furrows, now dashed with crease lines. She's peering at a little girl. The child is wearing a dress, tattered and torn, with no sleeves and no warmth. Her teeth chatter and her hands skate up and down her arm in a fruitless attempt to get warm.
She watches some more,then closes her eyes-squeezing them tightly shut. Minutes pass and she does not move. She's eerily still.
The little girl is talking to an elderly women, the women; handing her a jacket,coated in fur. The child, reaches up, hooks her arms around the lady's neck and kisses her, muttering softly.Thank you.
Her eyes snap open and she smiles, then turns away as if to say; My work here is done, A miracle.
She sits there.
She tilts the cup and drains it of the coffee inside. A few drops escape and splash onto her coat, staining it. She swipes them away, then crushes the paper cup into a ball and stretches out her arm. She fires it through the air, then listens to the soft clang of the cup bouncing against the sides of the metal can. Her slender fingers begin to weave their way through each other as if racing in an unknown contest. Her lips curve upwards, smirking again. A blush creeps over her cheeks and settles there-She's thinking about someone. Her head drops slightly and for a minute, it looks as though she's fallen asleep. The wind blows furiously, grabbing pieces of litter and leaves, and tossing them all over the street. Snow scatters across the benchs and flutters on it's way down to earth. She clutches her bag and stands up, the kitten heel's she's wearing making a soft clack as she stands. Then she's gone. There one minute and gone the next.
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