Sunday, 6 May 2007

Fishing For Compliments

- 'Well...' she began, eyes searching my face, 'What do you think?'
- 'I don't know what to say... no, really.' A safe-ish answer.
- ' Do you like them, though?' Pressing me for some sort of committed answer.
Truth was - I wasn't sure. I had liked the way they were before. I'm no great fan
of artifice. They seemed unreal, especially with her olive skin and dark,sheeny hair.
- ' I think they'll take some getting used to... they're certainly striking.'
She pouted a little.
- 'I did it for you, you know: I know it's what you northern Europeans like...'
Maybe some, not me. She was perfect in her natural state, as different from me as a
fish from a bird.
She was angry now.
'You bastard, you ungrateful English Bastard! They cost me a lot of money!'
I shrugged, it was a lot of fuss about tinted contact lenses.
© Ewan Lawrie 2007

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