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Rated: E · Short Story · Writing · #1997503
I wrote this about a man remembering a woman who was once full of life and was alive
As I stared at the worn out brown leather chair, I couldn't help but picture her. She was so perfect and so gentle but she always thought she was nothing. She had more grace in her smile than any of the other women I have ever happened across. She was such a beauty and I couldn't help but remember the fine details of her face.

              Her lips were very enticing and they always held a sly smile, as if she knew all your secrets. Those lips kept most men begging for a kiss but she gave to no-one and smiled brightly every time she refused. When she smiled, her face morphed into that of a goddess, and the whole room lit up like Gatsby's garden.The first time she blessed me with that smile, I fell completely and helplessly in love. As many did. Her nose was small and very cute just like her laugh. But the thing everyone loved about her were her beautiful sparkling eyes. They were such a powerful blue, I thought God took two stars from the sky and placed them in her eyes. They were like two limitless oceans and if you looked too deeply you were sure to drown. I did. I would keep drowning in those eyes if possible. As if that wasn't enough, she was blessed with luscious long blonde hair which shone like gold in the sun. Oh how I wished to be buried deep in that hair and to feel the soft strands beneath my fingers. Too late to feel her hair now.

              She was a small woman only five foot but she still managed to stand taller than anybody who happened to be in a room with her. Her ivory skin made her look like a porcelain doll but she used it to her advantage, as no-one ever harmed her. Well, until that day.  Her body was desired by men and hated by women consumed with jealously as they should have. She was well endowed with her breasts and her arse was sculpted by cupid himself.  Queen. Goddess. Dove. Ghost. She was many things, to many people but to me she was my saviour. Before I met her I never believed in love, thinking it was a foolish endeavour which ends badly. Yet when I saw her sitting in that worn out brown leather chair, my heart stopped beating for me and began beating for her. 

              I shook my head and smiled at the memory of the beauty queen and walked across to that chair. As I did the sun shot through the window and landed on the chair. My pace slowed. Time slowed. As I reached the chair I saw a shiny strand of long blonde hair staring at me and beckoning me to touch it. I took the strand and felt the soft gold. I smiled for she gave me one last grace before leaving me completely. I loved that woman. Everyone did. In death she was a beautiful disaster.
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