a whisper of words

it's a metaphor, you see.


11. barbara




barbara, she was a garden. she  was beautiful, especially in the spring when roses blossomed on her cheeks and bees buzzed in her ears. she was beautiful in the summer, so full of life and colour. she was beautiful at autumn, leaves changing from green to reds and oranges and browns, the way she changed clothes from short skirts and tight dresses to woolly jumpers and leather jackets. and at winter, with its frost and bare branches, she was at her barest; she was exposed. winter was dull, when there was no make-up on her face to hide behind. and yet, she still remained beautiful.

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