If she was not amazingly pretty, but pretty, still, and if people always said it. As a kid maybe not, but later, and then oh when people said it lots. But it is what people thought and there she stood and just did not know what to do when people said it. It was not like rebellion, or maybe, but there were other things and bigger challenges. She did not even want to think of her looks. Her looks, it is what they said. And now, locked in prison, her face in newspapers, the pretty one, they said it too.
Published by MW Bewick
Writer of poetry and place; editor and journalist. Co-founder of Dunlin Press. Books including Pomes Flixus, The Orphaned Spaces and Scarecrow are available from http://dunlinpress.bigcartel.com View more posts