jacquelineb | Exhibition: Twelve new sentences

Since I missed yesterday, you get a double hit of sentences today!

The hair at the base of his skull meets in a point at the centre. He had it cut yesterday, and came back home smelling of water and air. Now she looks at the slender tip of the point, so precise and perfect, and cannot stop her hand from reaching out and, with a single finger, tracing a short line down from its apex to stroke his lovely skin.

He was scarcely moving before, but now, he stills, utterly. She can see the side of his face from where she stands. He blinks, once, then twice, long lashes closing and opening like whispering moths. Then she lifts her finger away, and he exhales. His teeth press into his lower lip, and he drums his fingers quickly against the wooden frame of the case. She smiles, and raises her finger once more. Only now she doesn’t quite touch his skin. Instead, she hovers above the line of his hair, marking out the brief arcs upwards before coming to the pointed tip. He drums again, and with feather-light touch, the pad of her finger sweeps all the way down his neck.

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