EXHIBIT #1 – STRETCHED TO THE LIMIT
Monique was at her wits end. They had taken everything of any value to her. All she was left, was her dignity, these four walls and the need to dance. The music played internally; a melody that has played there since her birth. From the squalor of her broken home to the lofty stages upon which she played, Monique was her own star. She shined brightly, no matter what Francois had to say.
He tried to consume her; to control and demean her. But she was strong enough to not allow that to happen. She had it all. And now she had nothing. The spindly waif struggled with her demons. She leaned against the wall, arms extended and supporting her diminutive frame. The muscles in her back eased; her calf muscles tightened. Monique tossed her head back, whipping her abundant curls across her shoulders, falling back into place in tight ringlets of hope. Heels lifted and her body pulsed.
The music inside was cacophonous. Dancing had commenced. Monique was free!
EXHIBIT #2 – A VISION OF WHITE IN MOTION
Jacqueline reeked of purity.
Her existence was of one purpose. She wanted to be looked upon as the fairest in the land. For in this sick and confused world, she knew that purity was a lost commodity. And thus it had great worth, but in a way which she had never imagined. From the shelter of her over-possessive upbringing, Jacqueline knew not of the deviance which plagued the “real” world.
Her means were simple. And her beauty flowed from her naivete. A clear conscience and a pure heart could defeat the most destructive of beasts. Astride her bicycle, she had set out to offer her goodness to ease the pains of the darkness. Jacqueline had no idea.
The lovely one had no inkling of what awaited her in her travels. She had never encountered ravenous wolves. She did not battle wicked witches. She was in for a rude awakening. But the world awaited Jacqueline. It was more than capable of encountering her kind. They would destroy her. Jacqueline could never distinguish between purity and fear. Either way, she reeked of it.
EXHIBIT #3 – LIGHTER THAN EYRE
Delphine found herself lost in her writings. She had wit and a clearly expressive soul. In her mind, she was a Bronte sister separated at birth and quite a few decades. But her imaginings were very visual; a feast for the eyes and soul. Delphine’s diversion placated her sedentary heart.
Adventure and situations played in her mind; a muse that was more blessing than curse. But at worst, she was merely a good writer. Those who read her worded magnificence knew otherwise. She carried her verbiage like a cache of gold. It was her intent that gave her words their worth and value.
Delphine drew such great comfort from releasing her ramblings into the world. She soared in unforeseen stratospheres. She flew in the paths of many great authors before her. She became airborne through the spreading of her wings on her flights of fancy. She felt carefree and unencumbered. Delphine was lighter than Eyre!