coda
There was that strange part that was oddly missing, deliberately left out for a purpose - so that she could wake in the morning in a bed meant for one and prepare a breakfast for one. Maybe missing isn’t such a good word, because it wasn’t exactly something that should’ve been there but wasn’t there.
It had been removed, edited, consciously taken away from the strands of her nature, covertly deleted to produce a sad, lovely girl.
A sad, lovely girl.
She wasn’t beautiful, wasn’t bubbly or popular or remarkably memorable, if at all attractive, but in her sadness, her simple being carried more weight - like black ink in clear water. Her small self was magnified; her eyes more expressive and fingers more delicate. Euphonious. Tender. A faint echo of a love you heard a long time ago, a rusty vintage lock opening itself in your memories, this sadness was real, a soft ribbon of silk on your face.
Lonely, sad and lovely.
~ hannah p
