dalia's memorySunlight streaked through the blind slits, landing on the wall opposite. The random papering of the wall was first dark, then light, then dark – Dalia counted the stripes as voices filtered in one ear and out the other. She may be able to hear you … We can’t be sure how much longer … Dalia, do you remember that story …. Papa cracked that rainbow lolly right over her butt – she was red with spite … Dalia? Dalia? Dalia?dalia's memory
Dalia wasn’t listening. She stared at the wall, counting the stripes, the swatches of colour, the texture of the paper. The hand in her own was stiff, puffy. It wasn’t f
dalia smithTHE CONFIDENTIAL FILES OF: DALIA EVELYN SMITH twenty nine / thought police ____________________dalia smith
Dalia approached the mic, her fingers twisting nervously in her skirt, and in a meek voice, spelled out the word autochthonous. The sound of applause filled the auditorium and children lined behind her, their shoulders drooping in sadness as she claimed the trophy seat for 1995. On that day, no one could have guessed at the woman she would become. No one would have thought that this smiling, shy girl, would become the hardened, all-business woman she is today. I count it my fault, that she lives as she is. But then it
-sigh-
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*CSS-Babes | *typoholics | *pica-stock | =VirtualMoleskine
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*CSS-Babes | *typoholics | *pica-stock | =VirtualMoleskine
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