All things go, all things go

So creative writing is one of my minors. More than that, it's one of my passions. I'm not very good at it, but alas, that's usually how these things go. However, if I'm ever going to pursue writing of any kind, I should probably get over my intense insecurities. By putting short pieces of writing up here, I'm risking the chance of someone reading it (though I doubt many people read this) and slowly chipping away at my inability to have anyone read my work.

It was hot, that was all she could wrap her brain around. It was hot and she felt sticky. She held her arms loose at her sides and kept her hands stiff to keep her fingers from sticking together. There was more than just heat in the air though, and she could smell it. No one knew when she figured out that she didn't quite belong but they all knew how.

For generations, her village had been peopled by gentle, kind farmers. Very few visitors ever came and when they left, all they could remark on was how pleasant everyone had been. Everyone living there now had blue eyes. An opaque, aqua blue that made them look as if they had been made of some polished stone. There hadn't been another eye color in the village since anyone could remember.

She stood there now, staring down the lane with her intense brown eyes. Her straw colored hair fell thick and damp from the humidity down past her shoulders and onto her chest. Freckles stood out on her nose and cheeks and forehead and she held her full, mauve lips in the half-grimace of anticipation. The sun smiled down with its unrelenting heat and her eyes twinkled with intelligence and something that flickered and danced and laughed. She shifted slightly on legs a little too long for her height. Any casual passersby at that moment would have remarked on how beautiful she was.