Sway
“I started by getting Bridget Smalley’s class schedule from my contact in the main office and looking her up in last year’s yearbook in the school library. In the yearbook picture her chin was down, her eyes looking up to meet the gaze of the camera. She looked demure and just slightly uncomfortable with having her picture taken, her smile almost apologetic—as if she didn’t really want to put too much out there. Definitely pretty, but then, it’s not as if I was expecting her to be ugly.
Bridget’...s last class of the day was chemistry and I just happened to be passing the door when she emerged from the classroom. I had seen her picture, so I knew what to look for, but was unprepared for how much prettier she was in person, one of those people whose beauty refused to be captured in digital, her expressions and the empathic knowing behind her eyes making up half her appeal. The picture had also failed to capture her coloring, which was like an oil painting under the hand of a Baroque master.MoreLess
Bridget’...s last class of the day was chemistry and I just happened to be passing the door when she emerged from the classroom. I had seen her picture, so I knew what to look for, but was unprepared for how much prettier she was in person, one of those people whose beauty refused to be captured in digital, her expressions and the empathic knowing behind her eyes making up half her appeal. The picture had also failed to capture her coloring, which was like an oil painting under the hand of a Baroque master.MoreLess
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