Faces
It was his face she would recall. His faces. Always.
She had opened the door to him that first time and her heart had lifted at what she saw: the smile, the slightly quizzical lifted eyebrow as he checked that this was the right place, the right person. They had talked for hours that had sped oh so swiftly.
The next face she remembered was his dejected look. She realised she had unintentionally caused it and swiftly remedied that and it never returned.
The first face – his kind, gentle, smiling face - was the most frequent one.
She was frightened when he became cross because his face changed utterly and he ended the conversation and went to his room. Later he drew himself to his full height and stood ramrod-straight so that she had to bend her head back to see the stern, unsmiling look as he made clear his feelings.
Another time his face crumpled up with tiredness and she wondered if he would start crying.
Yes, it was his face she would remember, rather than his final words. - “I am a cold person,” he said. “Don’t touch me! - You have driven me away.”
Margaret Wilde © 2007
It was his face she would recall. His faces. Always.
She had opened the door to him that first time and her heart had lifted at what she saw: the smile, the slightly quizzical lifted eyebrow as he checked that this was the right place, the right person. They had talked for hours that had sped oh so swiftly.
The next face she remembered was his dejected look. She realised she had unintentionally caused it and swiftly remedied that and it never returned.
The first face – his kind, gentle, smiling face - was the most frequent one.
She was frightened when he became cross because his face changed utterly and he ended the conversation and went to his room. Later he drew himself to his full height and stood ramrod-straight so that she had to bend her head back to see the stern, unsmiling look as he made clear his feelings.
Another time his face crumpled up with tiredness and she wondered if he would start crying.
Yes, it was his face she would remember, rather than his final words. - “I am a cold person,” he said. “Don’t touch me! - You have driven me away.”
Margaret Wilde © 2007
var sc_project=1725605;
var sc_invisible=0;
var sc_partition=16;
var sc_security="acf71b9a";