Angelina

I think she did it knowing...

Shallow coughing would send the fawning boys into frenzied concern.
"You okay there, Angie?"
"...yeah, you sound a little rough there!"
Her condition was superficial of course.

Large, doe eyes the color of black tea when the light hit them; always fully lined with the deepest pigment and adorned with lashes that almost touched her brows (natural, I'm sure).
Pale skin with delicate flushes of pink
and that long, raven hair...
...and she was thin. Not skinny-thin.
The type of frame that sells things like
over-sized men's shirts, Uggs and leggings as pants.

She didn't have to try.
She would cough and send the earth's gravity in her direction.

Her beauty broke hearts and she never gave away her own...
...she just sat there, in the back row, her slender legs outstretched (the muscle probably atrophied from all her lack of exertion) her hair up in a deliberately disheveled ponytail
her vapid stare consuming none of the classroom debate.
Because that type of attention was completely unnecessary.
Why challenge a world that allows you to float along ever so gracefully on a legacy of privilege?

I remember one time she offered a half-eaten bag of jelly beans to the few people still milling around after class.

I hate jelly beans.

But she was offering a valuable souvenir from a world I had never been a part of--she offers scraps from her plate and we scramble for a taste of the crumbs, hoping to indulge in the mere association of such effortless superiority...

When I went back to my room, I stared at the bag for a moment as I nibbled the less obnoxious flavors. I had hoped they would somehow be succulent morsels I had been so lucky to acquire given that they had obviously been anointed by a goddess of ultimate desirability... 

But they were not
and I couldn't stomach anymore so I threw away what remained. 


Day 58: submitted one local