101 special words about poison, and Daddy’s Little Girl…

From a bottle found in a store, the poison ran from her mouth, dripping along the line of her jaw into a puddle on the linoleum floor. It was the 40’s – daddy was away in a war, and the bible was hidden in a chest of drawers.

What had happened that day at school – how they’d laughed, or the scorn they had scurried like Egyptian beetles to nest in her head, could not, and did not explain much of anything to her returning father about the “Case,” or what might have been going on in the head of his little girl…

101 words about staring at the unseen…

It might have happened – had there been more time, something additional might have been explained. Still, in the dancers short life, many fine moves had been made. The shapes to which her body had formed, and the arches and shudders into which her body had contorted had expressed like an alphabet a great many things to the men, who all her life, had stared at her.

But she, being a consummate artist, had always wondered, is there a me in what they are seeing – the sum of her parts asking with a graceful perplexity, isn’t it useless to stare at beauty?