A girl sits on a chair, beside a table, then rises

A girl sits on a wooden chair, beside a wooden table. She is wearing a yellow dress, and a white skirt. At length, she slowly gets up.

A girl sits on a wooden chair. The chair seems fairly ordinary, with the usual four legs and a seat, and a plank to support one’s back. Thin nails grown rusty over time had been hammered into it, and most of them still survive. One of them, fixed on the right side of the plank, threatens to fall off, and peeps out of the wooden structure ominously. The chair occasionally creaks and groans, adding to the already acute discomfort of the person sitting on it.

The person, as has been told before, is a girl. Her countenance is pleasing, with a puckered nose and thin lips, and large, expressive blue eyes now downturned. Her black hair is tied behind her in a neat plait. She wears a flowing yellow dress, with frills hanging loose where her sleeves end. The neck is also elaborately sewn, with three white buttons firmly covering her growing womanhood. There is much cloth on her, as the numerous folds of the dress would seem to suggest. The yellow ends where it is tucked inside an even more elaborate white skirt. White strands flow over the skirt in a gorgeous floral design, like wild flowers blooming in a valley. The skirt touches the floor and hides her feet. Her hands rest on a wooden table; a table as plain as the chair on which she rests.

The table is small. Just about enough to rest the elbows of one person. But for its small stature, it seems surprisingly sturdy, and budges little under the weight of the girl. The wood seems a strong red, compared to the soft peach of the chair. For its width, it is a tall table, and rises almost to the girl’s bosom, as she places her folded arms on it. Slowly, she pushes her chair back, and stands up. The folds of her fabric straighten, and two black shoes are visible beneath her skirt.

A girl can be seen sitting on a chair, resting her arms on a wooden table. Her vision pierces straight through the table, yet ends nowhere. It is a strange blurry vision, a vision lost, but willingly so. She wears a yellow dress and a long, flowing skirt which drapes to the floor. The bright colours of her dress are in sharp contrast to the murky shades of the wood surrounding her. The blue of her eyes shimmer like jewels. It is a strange sight indeed, to see such a girl in furniture so forlorn. If she were to declare herself as a princess, one would be inclined to kneel in front of her and turn to her slave, rather than disbelieve her. Such is her difference with the throne which she now occupies. Gradually, she turns her head up, and raises herself from her seat.

A girl sits on a chair, with a table in front. Her appearance is in curious contrast to her immediate surroundings. She gazes wistfully at her hands, as a strange aura seemingly radiates from her. Her presence infuses the air with a seeping stillness, yet the atmosphere is that of disquiet. What is she doing here? Her calm seems to suggest an equivocal peace, but still the chair creaks, the table remains rigid, her dress sways ever so gently, ever so quietly. Her whole weight is on the table, as if she were preparing to spring upon someone. Suddenly, the calm in her eyes is shattered, it flashes as if in trembling anticipation. Slowly, she moves.

At first, she jerks ever so little, as if to unglue her from the chair. Then, she slowly raises herself. Her head turns up, her eyes look forward.

A girl sits, a strange expression lighting her face. An unfocussed vision, but one not devoid of hope. Perhaps she waits for her lover, a man she met in the fair, a man who handed her a flower and smiled with such grace, that she could not help giving him her heart. In a waking moment of epiphany, she realized why she was brought to this earth. Why she lived, why she tread the ground, why she danced to music, why she went down to the fair every year. From her appearance, it might be concluded that the man thus postulated might be in reality a boy, for she is young as well. The embroidered dress hides her early bloom well. A special dress she wears to meet him; given away by the excessiveness of her attire and anxiety in her eye.

For a moment, her eyes reflect joy, and then turn to trembling. She looks up. Her lover is here. Slowly, she stands. Her heart prepares herself to go to him, yet her body resists every urge. It is a beautiful moment.