Saturday, October 30, 2010

DWP - the gypsies: four-line prose prompt

He eyes the woman with the large silver hoop earrings and red bandanna as she explains the efficacy of the dried leaves and herbs wrapped in flimsy packets. The silver earrings make small tinny noises that dissolve in her hearty laugh, her bosom expanding as she does so.

He kisses her hand, "Marry me," he says, he takes in the smell of an aromatic packet attached to her wrist, and despite what seemed to be a perfect example of a human female, he notes her hands are coarse and calloused.

"I can't," she says, "I'm a gypsy and my heart belongs to no one and no place, and that's how things should be."

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