Saturday, January 28, 2006

Zara

He brushed her hair, removing strands floating in her face, he patted her waistcoat. She was very still. He adjusted her collar, peered in her eyes, and gently brushed her hair again, fixing her fringe so that her eyes showed. He buttoned her shirt, and stroked her nose. She still stood poised, and now perfect.
She was Zara's new clothes mannequin, all plaster and plastic, and he a simple floor manager... but it was the most tender scene I had seen in a long time.

6 comments:

soraya said...

at least he is letting some of his heart out. i like this manager, i am sure he is not english!

Anonymous said...

a la plus belle collectionneuse de moments: tu me manques ya hmara...

Leilouta said...

That is so cute!

bored said...

dude... he gets paid to give her love, it's called prostitution. this is a job. shiddi 3a 7alik shway. by the way i'm glad you didn't kick me out of your blog. i have some new stuff on mine, but they are meaningless.

hikikomori said...

Beautiful! A flood of emotions. You're made of the same material, that's why you saw him

Anonymous said...

Mwahhhhhhhhhhhh
come back