MASKED INNOCENCE!
The angled pieces of rubble of the ground scuffed the tips of her patent loafers. Ironic, as she had just polished them with the elixir of varnish and stain her grandmother gifted her about four months ago. They still stunk of toxins. Though the shoes were not new and rather a decade old, Reina wore them with elegance. The women who surrounded her, their arms looped with their husbands wore short heels of vibrant material. Their pearls drooped below their belly buttons and draped furs and scarves around their pointy shoulders.
A woman in particular who caught Reina's eye was one dressed in crimson. The woman seemed to have a fogged haze radiating from her skin, and to add, Reina had never really seen a lady wear an ensemble stained that colour before. Reina studied her face as her father always told her that the face depicts the exact casing of the soul. A sour face with puckered lips and quivered eyes project gluttony and greed — two sins that are laced with subjective nonsense and superficiality. Whilst, one of glass-like texture and a pouting mouth perpetuates purity and something heavenly. These two conclusions could be easily drawn of that of a man's complexion. The reality of man is painted throughout his features to the point of which he has no control over.
A woman, however, is an artist. She chooses the brushes and the paint and means used to conjure up her expression. She manipulates her display to portray any reality she wishes. A woman is a master of deception.
Though this woman in particular — dressed in crimson and heavy pearls pulling at her earlobes, is conniving. Her shoes are scuffed more so than Reina's, and her gown is pleated in areas no seamstress would ever think to pleat. Her hair is not pulled back but dances above her shoulders as if mocking the heavy strips of fur and the delicate silks resting on the surrounding posh women's shoulders. The colour and ferocity of the dress deceives the eye the of the viewer. This women wants to portray a woman of high class and wealth, her shoes say otherwise.
Reina stops for a moment — aware of the busy and rushed beings behind her. The woman dressed in crimson crosses the road where she then disappears into an alleyway. Reina observed her movements with care and composure.
"Move along, mam'!" A grouchy man snuffs as he dips his shoulder down — swerving around Reina's lean frame.
"Pardon," she mumbles as she turns on her heels to walk back to her father's general store.
Her father, Giovanni Luciano Milani, is a slender Tuscan with deep brown features — the youngest son of a heavy-set farmer who sold the smoothest olive oil in all of Tuscany, or at least in Giovanni's opinion.
When her family immigrated to the city, the year being 1941, with the help of Reina's uncle, Andre, her father and his brother opened up their corner store in which they so graciously named Milani's Corner. Reina helped her father paint the square letters in a pale red shade — sure to keep a steady hand as she ran the brush hairs along the thin plywood.
"Bellissimo!" Giovanni cooed as he kissed his young daughter's temple. "The Gods have graced you with the gift of beauty and talent."
The young girl inwardly rolled her eyes, as her father's dramatic tendencies never seemed to surprise her. Nevertheless, she allowed him to shower her with hugs whenever they crossed paths. When she complained to her mother, Mariola, she would kiss her child's forehead and remind her that he is only so affectionate as she is their only daughter.
Reina finds her father seated behind the short counter displayed at the end of the store. She mentally reminds herself to repaint the counter's mouldings as they have become chipped by age over the six years the corner store opened its doors to the public. He sits crouched over in his wooden stool, his flimsy glasses set on the bridge of his pointed nose and a child's toy in hand. The paintbrush he holds between his fingers is delicate and small, an amusing sight as his large fingers fumble with the narrow object.
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MASKED INNOCENCE - (marlon brando)
Fanfiction"it is evident that she belongs in a place so destructive as this. she's masked her desire to relish in life - it is simple to see. he, on the other hand, wants to be in this world so desperately as it is the guilt that steers him on th...
