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Angelina Nguyen

Australia

"Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing."
-Benjamin Franklin

Message from Writer

Hello, everyone! I hope you enjoy my pieces published on this page! Most of what I write is inspired by real life events, along with people I have the pleasure of meeting. Please favourite, review, leave a comment or share any of my works if you like them because it may not seem like it but it means a great deal to me and will make my day tremendously.

Wandering eyes

April 30, 2016

PROMPT: Everyday Magic

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Emerald stones with minuscule hazelnut highlights illuminated despite the absence of embers in the stirring fireplace. Gazing into them sparked a bright desire in me that numbed my sensitivity but drew me towards the version of myself I saw in them, how splendid I looked and how I sparkled. Lightly pointed, his nose twitched when I told him how charming he was and his ears brightened red like a ruby that had just been unearthed. Embarrassed as he was, he still articulated conversation well enough to leave me quite in a fluster. How could I compete with such astound? He ruffled his tousled, hickory hair that was far from being anything other than a brown, but was a fine detail in my eyes, all shades of a lovely chestnut throughout and wafted of cinnamon and apples. He smiled mysteriously from the corner of his cheekbone and twinkled lightly, thrilling his body with a glow.

It was hard for me to really explain the lingering attraction I had towards him and though I searched the classics and the romantics, all the folklore and ballads, nothing brought near justice to what I felt. I would say it was a reassuring comfort, knowing that him leaving would bring a greater certainty that I would anticipate his next visit and knowing that if I left, there was someone at home waiting for your return. The conflagration of his embrace surrounded me as he pulled me in, sending rushes down my spine and enrapturing me with a warmth that was surprisingly intimate.

Heightening my perceptions of the world around me, I saw the beauty in every colossal tree, to the budding, humble teacups chattering in the antique store across the street from our lodge, to the alluring music of the violist who played at the local pub every Wednesday evening. They were gems I had not acknowledged as such before, more than likely because I had not met him then. I admired everything the room, the town, the earth had to share with me and he was responsible for this, whether or not he truly was here with me or simply an alexandrite I had imagined to reality from underneath. 

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