the disinclined beauty
fiction
edward w pritchard
Everyone was obsessed with physical appearance. Nature played a cruel trick on her and bestowed divine beauty a plenty to her and try as she may, with her indifferent weakened will, Nature insisted that the fruit be properly and timely displayed during her brief bloom.
I the Father, knowing her nature, was saddened by the forgone loss and ironic poignancy of the situation. With a proper Father's love, I like others was often startled by the eyes and rarely when she smiled beguiled by divine beckoning, evidenced in her face, for if Gods there were, they surely would look like this.
Years pile up and God is merciful and the beauty goes from all, but for a time that light shines itself, as absolute brilliance.
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