The Reader
She has a long, narrow face--hair, forehead, eyebrows and eyes, nose, mouth, and chin, all stacked one on top of the next. Her thick throat almost throws you off, until you realize that it's a long thick throat. Her ears, which would give Dumbo a run for his money, balances her face so well that when you look at her, none of her features stand out among the rest. If she had stopped there and not adorned her face with any extra trappings, she would be considered a handsome girl, not unlike Anne of Green Gables. However, bright red glasses enlarge her eyes to snicker proportion, and bright red lipstick widen her lips so much that the end result just makes you want to groan.
Boyish hands reach up to swipe stringy blond hair off the girl’s tall forehead. She tucks the strands behind her large ears. The door beside her bangs open, but she never even flinches; her murder mystery must be spellbinding.
Suddenly, the girl looks up and touches her thick throat. Does she have a late startle reflex? No, those smoky blue eyes have a far-away look in them. So now the question is, did that last sentence she read give her pause, maybe trigger an almost-forgotten memory? Or does she multi-task and this glance up is a cover for her laugh at what she overheard from the couple behind her?
Eyes back down to her book, so either the memory faded again, or the hilarity of the conversation passed. Just a minute later, and her long legs she had tucked under her chair spring forward, clogs echoing a thud throughout the room. One knobby knee begins to bounce, causing her flared skirt to edge up her leg.
The teacher enters the room quietly; no one seems to notice, and the class carries on with their raucous behavior. The girl, however, slams her book shut and quickly shoves it in her bag. Her eyes dart around the room and finally come to rest on the teacher. Her wide shoulders sag and a small smile lifts her red lips. A matching bright red fingernail scoots her red plastic frames back up her long narrow nose.
The teacher brings the class to order with a resounding pound on her desk. The girl merely blinks her eyes in response. As the rest of the teenagers claim their seats, the teacher moves her hands in an odd pattern. The girl suddenly seems to come to life, moving her hands and arms in an animated fashion. A guttural groan crawls to the front of the room, and the teacher answers with an audible welcome to the class.
Her hands never stopped moving.