It was 1935 when young Esmeralda turned sixteen. She got a new dress and she wore it to school where everyone would notice. Esmeralda was petty. Her teachers and parents believed that she would always remain insignificant to the world - like the period in a sentence that one skims absentmindedly and quickly forgets. Even her friends thought her ugly because her heart was made of coals. It wasn't until many years had passed, as Esmeralda lay withering quietly in a concentration camp, that the truth came out. Night had fallen and in it's silence Esmeralda heard a rustling at the foot of her bunk. Her old teacher, toothless and bend with exhaustion, stood stealing the shoes off her former student's feet. Their eyes met and, frozen in shameful recognition, the teacher let her gaze drop. Silently, the girl kicked off her shoes and went back to sleep. In the morning she walked barefoot to work in the snow.
beautifully wrote and i love the first pic..i just love mask :) <3 x
ReplyDeleteis this going to be part of an ongoing script?
ReplyDeletegreat piece
*bisous*
This is so sad and beautiful at the same time! I want to cry for Esmeralda....your writing always makes me feel emotional! xxoxoxo
ReplyDeleteYou have conveyed a great message within such a short paragraph. thats proves again that one's beauty often shines in the most insignificant times. that's where Esmeralda's beauty lies too. :)
ReplyDeleteagnes xx
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ReplyDeleteWow, what a story. You write so beautiful.
ReplyDelete