Swept back, but frizzled and raw.
Her face seemed clear, but closer inspection showed the tiny scars acne had left behind.
She was bone skinny, and yet wore clothes that were too many sizes too big.
Perhaps to make her seem fuller somehow.
She looked, not like she was wearing clothes, but almost as if living inside them.
Her blouse was a subdued red, as if she had wanted to take the world by storm, but quietly.
Her pants flared to the size of dresses.
She walked with long loping strides,
As if she was the new sheriff in town, a cavalier gait that screamed of imagined confidence.
Her speech was quiet, and yet somehow commanded the room's attention.
Her eyes twinkled, but never focused on anyone.
She was never looking at any of us, or anything in the room.
A gaze that was transfixed on things we couldn't see, couldn't even begin to imagine.
A world that only she understood, and could come and go as she pleased.
"I will wear a ring, but it will not be for marriage.
I need no man, for no man has need of me"
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