• Look over there. Do you see her? That girl in the corner? Now, try to look away. You can’t, right? She turns that corner of the room into center stage Your eyes have grabbed hold of her and cannot, will not let go. Her wheat curls swiped with gold in the dancing light frame her cream complexion, then cascade until the small of her back. Her chocolate and caramel eyes speak to you of naivety and something sweet. As she bites her lip and smiles, you smell daisies and roses. She is the best kind of beautiful. That timeless kind of loveliness that sounds like Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata - calm, composed, and seemingly effortless. But with an underlying sadness that tastes like Earl Grey that’s gone cold. Because, she is envied by the other portraits, who cake themselves with unnatural paints in attempt to compete with her visage. They attack her with sneers, use their green-tinted words to erode her. They want to twist her face in pain, but know that if they did they would look twisted themselves. But she retains her beauty, even through their deranged singing. Because it only would take one well meaning note to lighten her up and make her bloom.