Friday, April 20, 2007

Second Beginnings

A 50-word piece that might make it into The Novel, if I ever get that far.

Her face looked bleached, but in a delicate, doll-like way. Like she would fall over if you didn’t hold her up, because her porcelain body was unable to shift and find balance. It was unnatural, and he didn’t know whether to fall over in worship or to run in fear.