Catherine watched the girl from afar. She gazed at her, confused as to why someone so fancy, so wealthy would come to their small town. Her breath fogged up the cold window and she peered through the smudged window at the young woman. She wore an extravagant purple dress, she was possibly 15 or 16 based on the looks of her. Her raven hair was piled up in an elaborate hairstyle, twisted and curled. She had neatly-trimmed bangs. She had such pale skin that she looked to be a sculpture-she held herself like one too. Pink lips, and rosy cheeks, blue piercing eyes that would melt when she smiled. Catherine was so enthralled that if she got any closer to the window she would burst right through the pane. The woman with her had hair, blonde and looked so different from the young woman, that Catherine doubted she could be her mother. A man grabbed some bags and another trunk. No. It couldn't be, Catherine thought. Was the girl moving in next door?
The Girl Next Door
More by crisscross
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Moral Reminder to Myself
No one looks like a villain once dead.
There is no threat in a lifeless body,
In screaming mothers and weeping daughters.
Once exposed, his blood is no longer poison.
-
Release
She was born in the radiation era,
A veil of marble covers her eyes,Her lids webbed in waves:
They were stitched too tight
to permit the penetration
of the perpetrator.
-
supernova
when a star dies, it is a violent explosion.
it can emitt more light than an entire solar system.
and while it pulses with hot gas and blue light,
it slowly dims. until its remnants are scattered
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