My Story?

“Good evening.” he softly spoke as she entered his den. Not so much as walking, but more of a slide, she moved over to a leather chair that held a high back, arm restes that were overstuffed with cotton. Small squares adorened the chair in a never ending pattern.

Baby soft golden brown hair tied up in a ponytail, the tips lifting with the soft breeze from a far away window. A single purple lilac selectively placed where the ponytail begins, tied into her hair with a soft purple ribbon. Eyes that shone with intelligence, honey brown iris’ showing nothing less than sharpness, taking in all that she saw around her. Lips, lips of marble carvings, painted with red gloss, the faint smell of raspberries fill her nose. Her neck was elegant as she held her head high in her chair. Olive smooth skin seemed to pull the light towards her, highlighting her red lips and honey brown eyes.

Her shoulders held up her evening gown. Rose red thin straps holding a dress that would look good on only her and no one else. An Angel from the Heavens would only disgrace the dress had an Angel worn the gown instead of her. The gown curved into compliment the natural beautiful curves of her body. Tampering in at her waist, then flowing out form there down, almost sweeping along the floor.

Her sensual voice rode the soundwaves she created when she spoke, “Good evening to you.” She smiled, Angels began to sob, her teeth shone a brilliant whiteness only movie stars could pray for.

Rain thumped against the window panes, thunder heard in the deep caverns below the house, lightning could be seen breifly illuminating the den. The fire roared away, huge logs crackled and hissed as the flames ate away the delectable wood grains. Giant stones formed the housing to the fire, ancient cedar formed the mantle. Six singular flames held hostage by a simply wick, long white candles danced light upon the mantle.

Slowly she crossed her legs, the gown draped downwards at her knee, the waves in the fabric engrossed me momentarirly.

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Through the magic of OD, I have recently met a verly wonderful young lady. A young lady that has had to endure so much, with her head held high, she strode on forward, always smiling. Keeping a strong appearence. Just by reading the words that she has written, I almost feel as if I know who she is. If I were to count her among my friends, I would be blessed. To know who she is, I am blessed.

Miles away she lives, and miles away I call…just to hear her voice.

Number Not Avaliable comes up on her phone, and she knows it is me that is calling…and she tells me that she is smiling now. Warmness grows in the pit of my stomach, it spreads through my veins, into every part of my body. I smile.

She has the power to light up a man’s soul. That man, the man that is lucky enough to get her love, and is truly blessed.

I hope that she has sweet dreams everynight, and a smile that is always ready to play across her lips carved from marble.

“If you look in the mirror holding 11 roses, you would see the 12 most beautiful things in the world.”