Woman - 2nd draft

2nd Draft

The woman in the crosswalk was tall and skeletal, the rounded slimness of youth eroded by time. Bottle dyed blood red locks framed bone white papyrus skin. A sleeveless blouse seemed off-white by comparison. It flowed into a skirt flecked with little red dots barely too symmetrical to be blood spatter. Cotton cloth swirled around thinly veiled tibia and fibula as the heat of the day rose up to clash with a descending blanket of fast cooling evening cloud covering.

It had been another one of those long, hot days wherein tedium was reflected in the very air. The sun was settling in for its final splash into the ocean, already having dropped behind the highrises that inevitably mar modern urbanized neighborhoods. The sepia tinted sky was a perfect setting for such an unanticipated sight, and surely the day’s events had made no small contribution to my current state of mind.

The stoplight preceding McCully Bridge had turned red; Ewa-bound traffic on Beretania Street was proceeding as my mind had begun to wander. The rental store's new marquee, attempting to invoke the upcoming Halloween, was calling for blood donors for "Count Coffin". I scoffed to myself at the commercialization of a celebration that had begun as a religious festival, only to be turned into a chaotic celebration of the demonic, now coopted by that greatest of evils in our contemporary society: commercialization. That was when the pedestrian crossing in front of me had caught my eye.

Clearly more needs to go here, say the actual narrative to which this is but an enchanting prelude…

Had the red light turned green? Car horns urged me on. Unsettled, I stepped on the gas pedal.

Woman in Almost White

It had been another one of those long, hot days wherein tedium was reflected in the very air. The sun was settling in for its final splash into the ocean, already having dropped behind the highrises that inevitably mar modern urbanized neighborhoods. The sepia tinted sky was a perfect setting for an unanticipated sight.

The stoplight preceding McCully Bridge turned red; Ewa-bound traffic on Beretania Street proceeded, and my mind began to wander. The rental store's new marquee, attempting to invoke the upcoming Halloween, called for blood donors for "Count Coffin". That was when a pedestrian crossing in front of me caught my eye:

She seemed proportionately tall and skinny rather than slim, perhaps because of her evident maturity (read age); hair dyed blood-red framed bone-white skin. Her sleeveless blouse seemed off-white by comparison. Below her waist swirled a subtly striking skirt: little red dots reminiscent of droplets of blood against an almost white backdrop.

Had the red light turned green? Car horns urged me on. Unsettled, I drove on.