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Mystery Violets

She walked into the club as though it were her own, even though she had never been there. That was just the presence she had; fearless, overpowering. The strobe lights illuminated her for small moments at a time; she had long, blonde hair with tousled curls and black, bug-eyed shades over her eyes, which I presume were ocean blue. No one knew for sure though, because no one ever saw her eyes. With a cigarette in between the fingers of her left hand and a vodka in the other, ninety-eight percent of people would have labeled her as “trashy” like the rest of “her kind.” But she wasn’t. She was beautiful; blindingly, stunningly beautiful. I watched her for the longest time, until I finally stood up and began my short journey home. She never laid eyes on me.

Once I reached the alleyway outside of the club, I suddenly felt a tugging on my arm. I turned around, she grabbed my shoulders and kissed me. She was so forcefully…gentle. My hands wandered to her waist, and hers to either side of my neck. She lifted her soft, strawberry lips off of mine, and when I tried to speak she put one finger over my mouth. With her free hand, she lifted her sunglasses off of her face and opened her eyes. They were purple. No, no just purple….violet with a tinge of green around her pitch black pupils. Looking into her eyes was a hypnotically euphoric experience, and one second felt like twenty. And then I blinked. Once.

She was gone.





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