Mirror Mirror On The Wall.
Her remains of breakfast line around her cherry lip gloss, her dimples concave into her rosy red cheeks, Something so intoxicating about her giggle leads us into believing her presumptuous ways. She stares at her reflection for hours envisioning her irradiant blue eyes similar to the nearby shore, a sea of chestnut hair plunges down landing softly upon her shoulders. She carries herself with pride wiggling her hips as she walks as if she’s starring in her own music video, a confidence in each stride leading a residue of sand pathing its way through the bathroom. Mirror Mirror on the wall who is the fairest of them all she declares, Stationing on the brink of the sink she envisions a fighter, her dauntless expression tells a story of her future, one that is filled to the brim with passion and love, A life in which she cannot wait to grow up and become the self reliant women she fantasises of. The reflection of a budding child already showing off her class and elegance just like her barbie dolls freshly out of there homes of plastic. 5 years old never seemed so carefree. Candidly without restraint she showers her reflection with kisses, her tender soft lips press up against the glass layering the modest figure with affection and sympathy.
Her dimples arn’t as provident like they use to be, instead lined with aged marks living within her skin. Irradiant blue fades away leaving a shadow of grey settling below her eyelids. A lone silver strand hair sits perched within her roots. Her younger envisions of a women have almost expired into the depths of her appearance. No longer does she sway her hips as she walks instead her high heels belt the marbled floor of the bathroom. Mirror mirror on the wall who is the fairest of them all she shouts, her broken voice echoes through the corridors leaving a sense of despair. As her towering figure overshadows the mirror she envisions a life where bills and broken relationships were no longer known and her feelings of growing up were as boisterous and blissful as her childhood. Her elegance of a body capped with crippling curves poses within the stained glass, an affliction of self love with-drawled from its barriers and into a sea of desperation. 30 years old never seemed so careless. Although having a robust restraint she precisely lays her red lips in contact with the mirror, there she gently kisses her reflection sprinkling the last remaining love in hope of a new lif
Annabel, well done for connecting aspects of the first timeframe to the second. There are also some intriguing images presented about this woman’s life here. Ensure that you read this writing out loud to place all of the necessary punctuation and vocabulary in the narrative. Lastly, I am not sure that I understand the line: “leaving an injured short lived girl collapsed within the walls of her home.”