The Art Site

Friday, July 30, 2010


It was just a single spirit, struggling with itself and its surroundings.
You could see, if you paid any attention to the signs of its struggle - the mouth, opening to laugh with the ends tight, tense, forced.
The face in customary smiling creases but with a slight rigidity; the eye narrowed in the face's laughter but was also strained and careful, watchful.

The time for laughing was over and the face relaxed, the tightness ebbing too fast for the expression of emotion to be real. Yet the spirit was unsure whether to immediately discard the unfelt expression or to keep some of the laughter in the face. The smile was forced to stay in behind the eyes, tense and still creased - in order to convince the others that she too, like them, had found the leader amusing.

The noise of the room fell heavily on the ears; clattering of pots, thudding, clinking of cups and glasses, shrill laughter, unintelligible spoken words in string-like formations, dragging over her dull mind. The closeness of the circular group and of all the bodies in a closed setting made the spirit feel uneasy and slightly trapped.

- Lydie

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