The Lady in White
He doesn’t notice me. Not really. It’s the people around me he comes to see. Day after day, I stand here, watching, waiting for him. He’s all I can think about. Those dashing blue eyes, that shock of blonde hair. Boots that glisten in the sun.
I long to get close to him, but there are so many barriers in our way. Physical, emotional, social. He remains a fantasy. I, a wallflower.
What would it feel like for him to touch me? For me to enfold him, welcome him in? I can’t see that happening, though. The fences between us are mighty.
Sometimes I think he must feel it, too, this longing. Why else would he return, day after day?
There’ve been others before him. There’ll be others after. They flock to me, the well-adorned spectacle. They can’t stay away. But they can’t approach, either.
If only everyone weren’t so overprotective. If only I were free. I’d make myself approachable. I’d welcome him in with doors wide open.
As it is, I stand here, as I have for hundreds of years. A lonely edifice of self, serving others, but rarely seen for who I am.
I am so much more than stone.
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Quickly done – I hope to write another one today if I get a chance. But I’m off to Williamsburg for a romance conference, so that may not happen. Still, I’d love to know what you think! Our focus this week was character, and the required element, in conjunction with the photo prompt, was “Girl Next Door.”
Plus, check out the other fabulous stories over on Flash Friday today.