JIM IN LOVE WITH PAULINE

518
  0%
  0

Tags

young love

 

JIM IN LOVE WITH PAULINE

He slowed a bit. He glanced at her. The winter air had pinched her cheeks. Her high cheek-bones, only adding beauty to her already beautiful face, seemed clearer beneath her fine skin, brushed gently red by the hostile day. They approached the shoreline with the wind bedevilling her hair and his. She took out a fine, silk scarf she carried in her bag and tied her hair back. She slipped the scarf into an easy knot. He did not look immediately for he sensed her loveliness would be enhanced by drawing her hair away from that lovely and too well-loved face. The scarf had imprisoned her hair, exposing her face which she had turned towards the grey sea. The milk-livered sun got frisky, flooding her skin with blandishments. A blonde down that he had never seen before gleamed on her upper lip, moustaching the vertical lines from her nose in a downy beauty that no words can adequately express. She lifted her arm, pointing to all the sea-birds that had appeared as if from nowhere and were diving down to the sea or wheeling in squawking circles, but she remained unmoved by the sight. He watched through his binoculars, then lowering the glasses, he said, “The wind,” reassuringly. Her cold glance from the sea turned to him. Unimagined grace now lit her smiling eyes.

“You’re thinking things,” she said, touching his lips with her fingers.

“Yes,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it, “but if I begin to tell you what I’m thinking I’ll never stop.”

She smiled, turning to look at some very large, black-and-white birds with long bills plunging down. Quite suddenly tears filled his eyes. He turned away. She wasn’t looking, anyway, and he got rid of them with a quick movement of his sleeve.

(From “After Dawn” a short novel about young love)

Global Scriggler.DomainModel.Publication.Visibility
There's more where that came from!