Today's one of those days that I could shuck my life and run away to someplace warm. I could peel off my everyday like a bad sunburn and start over all new. But I won't. I'm too attached to my people and, I hate to say it, my stuff. I think it's time to have a handful of M&Ms and then go to bed. But, first, some writing.
April 2--Jean Baptiste Greuze, Girl with a Blue Ribbon. Of all the Clivot girls, Giselle was the most beautiful. Not so much in the traditional sense of the word, that would have been boring, but there was a certain light that shone around her, an allure that drew people to her. Maybe it was the way her curly red wisps of hair sprang free from the blue ribbon she always tied it back with. Those little corkscrews of hair reminded me of the sparks that shot from the fire when you tossed a pine branch on the flames. Perhaps what drew people were her steady gray eyes like a millpond at dawn, cold and inviting. Giselle Clivot drew young men like sugar draws bees. She would lower her sweep of lashes but any fool could see the blush flood her cheeks, and the succulent peach of her lips, that always looked ready for a kiss, would deepen. Yes, everyone loved Giselle Clivot but Giselle Clivot loved only me for the all the days of her life. And now I am ready to rejoin her. Au revoir, la vie, I go to my Giselle.
Nice. A love letter. Sweet dreams.
--Barbara
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