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Literature Text
It is a cloudy day.
It isn't dark or bright.
Simply gray.
It's raining.
Not hard, just sprinkling.
It's cool out.
But not too cold.
You could happily sit out on the wet grass for hours.
There's a breeze, but branches of the trees stay still.
You stand in front of a mirror, looking at yourself.
Your face is pale.
Nearly white.
A white face, making your dark hair stand out.
Your eyes are hidden by the hair in your face.
Your lips are dark, although you've never worn make-up in your life.
You admire your reflection, and then go back to looking out the window.
You silently stand there, comparing the reflection you saw to outside.
In the end you don't see much difference.
It isn't dark or bright.
Simply gray.
It's raining.
Not hard, just sprinkling.
It's cool out.
But not too cold.
You could happily sit out on the wet grass for hours.
There's a breeze, but branches of the trees stay still.
You stand in front of a mirror, looking at yourself.
Your face is pale.
Nearly white.
A white face, making your dark hair stand out.
Your eyes are hidden by the hair in your face.
Your lips are dark, although you've never worn make-up in your life.
You admire your reflection, and then go back to looking out the window.
You silently stand there, comparing the reflection you saw to outside.
In the end you don't see much difference.
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Been feeling like this lately.
Tired. =w=
Tired. =w=
© 2012 - 2024 lizabey
Comments2
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Not really, seeing as I have light hair.