2003-01-07......8:50 a.m.......
yards and yards of out of season

a quiet amazement took the room and they saw her there, stark scarlet against the black of the crowd around her, the blur and blend of the dark cloth cut and bleeding her out. and as she walked , the stain spread- as if, now, the drop of blood rolled like a tear to the very back row. not an eye catches hers- legend was that if you did, she would speak to you. and what else could come from that scarlet lipped mouth but curses and foolishness. no one ever bothered to tempt fate. and the quiet amazement gave way to simple disgust and self-edification.

a slow smile too the crowd as she slipped in the room, among the earth of greens and browns she stood, cutting through the cloth terrain with a sharp streak of sky blue. the girl with her head in the clouds and not a foot on the earth-ever- they suspect. quiet laughter was spread from row to row until she finally took seat in the back. then they grounded their roots again and sang sweet harmony that only rose to eye level, ignoring quiet rising strains from the back-left.

a swell of pride had already taken the room before she arrived. all of the occupants were bedecked in the season's finest colors. reds, yellows, and blues all found a place in a single person's cloth and in another, oranges, purples, and verdant greens sang triumphant cacauphony. through the entire group, such choirs wailed. so loudly, in fact, that few even noticed the whisper of a girl assume the empty seat in the back, clad simply in pale pink. the little weed of an otherwise fantastic garden was given little more thought than, perhaps, later pulling.

no matter what i wear, i'm always out of style.


...and all sing in harmony, i am ok...

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kristin m dennis 2001-2007
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