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November 26, 2007

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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Comments

brilliant!

Posted by: Eric at November 27, 2007 12:18 AM · Permalink

Thank you! Awfully kind.

slainte

Posted by: LJ at November 27, 2007 10:10 AM · Permalink

This is a very good drabble. I liked the part about the areola.

Posted by: Todd at November 30, 2007 3:31 PM · Permalink