June 2, 2005: I had to go way back for this one; turns out I don’t write on June 2 very often. I was in a microfiction phase back then, certainly not for the first or last time. This is actually one of my favorites:
This is what they mean when they say “she’ll leave a bad taste in your mouth.”
Look at her. She’s fragile and lovely, like a butterfly’s wings, like a peacock feather (the eyes of a jealous goddess). She will break in your hand if you’re not careful; she’ll fly away if you’re not patient. You are drawn like a (dull, drab) moth to those lovely colors, the brilliant blue of her eyes and the clear gold of her hair. If you were a more clever predator, you’d realize that (as with many pretty little things) those bright hues signify “poison.”
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