Whatsername

Her hair had highlights. I hate highlights. But then, that was the only thing that I could hate about her.

No, wait; for the first time in my life, I found that I couldn’t hate highlights, no matter how hard I tried.

So, her hair had highlights, but I couldn’t hate them for the first time in my life.

And her eyes were like two blue orbs bulging from her sockets; and if that sounds rude, I admit that I am exaggerating.

She was made up, but there wasn’t much that she needed to hide. Or maybe, there wasn’t much that she wanted to hide.

It was a subtle difference that I understood. She took the hint, and smiled back at me. That smile told me that she had wanted me to understand that subtle difference.

She was wearing all black, and the highlights of her hair (damned highlights that I couldn’t keep my eyes off!) shone amber under the streetlamp.

Twinkling winking blinking at me. Much like her eyes, the blue almond shaped (and not too bulging) eyes.

The eyes were looking at me. They were talking to me, in the way that only beautiful eyes can talk.

That look was seductive.

That look was suggestive.

So, I did what I had to… I stepped on the pedal and raced away.

I fled the scene, as fast as I could.

I know what you’re thinking, but don’t judge me too fast.

I mean, I was scared. And she…

Well, she was a ‘working girl’…

~

Comments

  1. Thanks :) This was fun to write... although the experience that indirectly inspired it was not so much fun... :D

    ReplyDelete

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