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Rated: E · Short Story · Emotional · #1808559
In her weathered leathery hands she’s holding a photograph...
    In her weathered leathery hands she’s holding a photograph. It’s wrinkled and dog-eared. Loved. Dark hair is hanging loose from its bun and falling around her face. Beneath the strands she is beaming.
    Her feet barely touch the floor of the filthy south-bound bus-- but she’s stout, with thick strong legs. She looks brassy and wise and full of piss and vinegar. Her flesh colored stockings are saggy and hanging off her knees and ankles, full of runs mended over and over with clear nail polish. Her grey and white striped dress, thin with wear, sits just above her knees, with careful hand-hemmed red stitches.
    There is a girl sitting beside her, no older than seventeen. She has nonfunctional strappy shoes, freshly manicured nails and an attitude that says she couldn’t possibly care less about anything or anyone. She’s chewing gum and staring out the greasy window-- anything to avoid eye contact. She’s trying to appear confident and mature, but she’s insecure and scared and everyone knows it; the daily commuters can smell her vulnerability.
    The woman is rocking back and forth in her seat, still clutching the photograph. She’s holding on so tight that her fingertips are white, but her face looks tender as she stares at it. She starts rocking faster and faster until she looks like she’s about to burst. Finally she turns to the girl and boldly holds out the photo exclaiming-- nearly screaming-- “This is my grand daughter! She was born last week! I’m going to see her!”.
    The girl looks uncomfortable for a moment, her face filled with hesitation and dread. Her wide eyes scan the bus to make sure nobody is watching before she takes the photograph and holds it up to the sunlight, staring at it for a moment. All she sees is a wrinkled and hairless lump, wrapped in a yellow blanket.
    Their eyes meet and the woman’s are filled with tears-- so loving and thrilled and PROUD. She is so filled with life and hope that she is shaking and grinning.
    The girl looks at the photograph once more, and with a sincere and childishly innocent smile says

“She’s beautiful”.
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