Saturday, August 3, 2019
Is He or isnt She - Original Writing :: Papers
 Is He or isn't She - Original Writing         I reach my destination, not really convinced how I should feel, or     what I should anticipate! A mid terraced house, unsure of the area,     but seems calm. A cold October evening, 5 pm and already the streets     are dimly lit, a clear sky above, evidently displaying the dazzling     stars that gleam beyond. I approach the house to a very inviting     welcome, are they really friendly people or do they not get many     visitors? I make my way to the lounge and take a seat, a small table     in the corner draped in a lace cloth, a bookshelf that covers one     entire wall and bursting to the brim with books. I'm immediately     offered refreshments before given the chance to proceed with the     interview, "A cup of tea would be great, thanks".       Where do I start? A very complicated person, whose life is full of     twists and turns. Kris, 5ft 8in tall, medium built with shoulder     length hair, the kind of hair I would describe a 60's rock star to     have, like Mick Jagger's, the rough and ready look. Born in London,     but you wouldn't know by her accent, she has more of a neutral tone.     She grew up with the feeling of not belonging!       It all started when schooling began, nursery then infants. She just     didn't fit in and her parents didn't know what to do. "Send her off to     boarding school, that'll change things." I sit there, listening to     every word that is spoken to me. She's obviously very wounded and     distraught by the whole circumstances, as her parents were going     through a divorce at this time, but did her mother really feel that     this would be the best option, or was it that she didn't know what     else to do, maybe she needed to escape?       She sits opposite me, fidgeting, almost non-stop, legs crossed to one     side and then instantaneously switching over to the other, arms     folded, and the only time they unfolded is to remove the hair in her     eyes, or to twiddle uncontrollably with her fingers.  					    
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