Description of a sad girl sitting across from me.

Sept 5th, 07

This person's been there all along. She's the girl who's name you cant remember when you try to list everyone in your group. Sitting there, clutching her closed Bible with thin fidgety fingers. She laughs nervously at a joke; her eyes shifting as I glance a stare at her uncomfortable little face. Her flat lips close tightly over her retainered teeth as soon as she notices my attention. At an attempt to save her from more silent unselfconscious awkwardness, I slide my eyes to the floor in front of me. There sit her feet. Even her toes scream of some lifelong fear of exposure as they lay curled together on the cold marble. Three different ankle bracelets sit as crowns on top of her pale feet. Seems a little unique and artsy for the likes of her. Maybe she likes art and jewelry. Her neck, ears, and wrists are bare. So, maybe they anklets were gifts or have a special meaning or story behind them. Maybe she has her own special story and maybe it's a really good one. I wonder, though, if anyone will ever no Leah Murn's story.

I feel cruel and out of place at this youth Bible study as I begin to think of analogies for poor little Leah that is now my impromptu muse.

A beached piece of trash discarded on a calm shore of Maine. It's not her fault she ended up there. Given the choice, would she be stuck in the sand, living her day-to-day instinct of a life? Depends on what's behind door number two, but I'd honestly like the think she herself would choose to quietly thrive on her never ending predicament of Mundane. Not that it really matters. Most people will walk by and notice the ocean, sand, and sunset without ever noticing her. Those who do see her aren't happy to because she is only a misshapen lump of half-buried plastic. All it can do is exist without change or improvement until the world recycles it into something newer, shinier, and useful. Except Leah wont be recycled into a shiny new creation. Leah will just die the way she is; no shine.