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November 26, 2007

Monday

Tell us about a magic pencil.

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From the Comments - By LJ

She waited, imprisoned in wood and lead, for one to come and free her. Without knowing, he did.

He drew only the barest outline of her body on the paper, but even that was enough to begin the whispers. The lead and eraser began to guide themselves; the gentle curve of her hips or the precise shade of her areolae... he corrected without knowing they were wrong.

In time, she was there on the paper, her body in all its glory. She was free from her prison at last.

Now he was trapped, by the image of his perfect woman.

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