Unnatural shadows adhere to her eyes in twin carved blades without giving her any impression of menace. My first thought is that I’ve seen her before, not too long ago, actually. She was sitting behind a counter of books, watching me not unkindly with the same artificially dark eyes as I went about my own lagging process of picking out books to buy.
“Which would you recommend?” I asked her when my indecisiveness had finally hit me in the head. Smiling, she picked out a couple of books that she liked and I bought two of them.
We are somewhere else this time, but in the same element. At the nape of her neck she has a tattoo in elaborate script- “escapism”. The ink is as dark as her eyeliner, and the word stays in my head for a long time.