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Literature Text
"Jeanette"
When Jeanette had left the room, I heard a giggle from the other side of the wardrobe. As I peeked, I saw a small, round face smiling back at me, that of a girl perhaps nine, ten years of age. This, I told myself, must be Lillian. God, how she looked like her mother. Not in a sexual way, of course; rather, she seemed to be the essence of all things pure and angelic about Jeanette. At least, until you looked into her eyes. There, in the aquamarine depths, she held a gleam of mischief that, if nothing else, told you whose daughter she truly was.
When Jeanette had left the room, I heard a giggle from the other side of the wardrobe. As I peeked, I saw a small, round face smiling back at me, that of a girl perhaps nine, ten years of age. This, I told myself, must be Lillian. God, how she looked like her mother. Not in a sexual way, of course; rather, she seemed to be the essence of all things pure and angelic about Jeanette. At least, until you looked into her eyes. There, in the aquamarine depths, she held a gleam of mischief that, if nothing else, told you whose daughter she truly was.
This is the companion piece to my excerpt called Jeanette. It's not based off anyone I know, and it's not from a bigger story. If you're wondering where the hell I got the idea from, check the other one named "Jeanette" in my Series 'Tidbits of Writing'.
© 2013 - 2024 DinoPrincess333
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