FLASH FICTION FRIDAY 55
Her flowing auburn hair fanned out over the white silk pillow.
Her richly brocaded blouse seemed to sparkle and vibrate with life.
Her eyes are closed, no movement of the silky top.
All this beauty is in stark contrast to gray, plastic skin.
Dressed up, but going nowhere.
Dressed up, but no one is home.
(This 55 came to life as a result of my being at a funeral yesterday evening for a beautiful 46 year young woman who finally lost her two year battle with the type of cancer that killed Farrah Fawcett. I was introduced to her by one of my sponsees and I only met her twice, but the first time I saw her I placed my hands on her. That created a special bond between us that I don't understand. I loved her.)
Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by G-Man.