•Dichotomy•
|"A division or contrast between two things that are or are represented as being opposed or entirely different."|
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How many silhouettes can one trap in oneself? How many faces can a mask hide...
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The summers by the end of July in the New York City were warm and humid. Sweat beads and perspiration were a common phenomena you will experience until its not the end of August.
Cool waters washed down Alex's sweaty body as she stood under the shower. Her hands massaged the soap on her breasts and then the navel. The waterdrops washed down the remaining lather on her body and she was clean of sweat again.
The sweat and dirt on her body in summers irked her - how it would stick like a second skin and cause the itchiness and wet discomfort. Two showers a day was what she needed for the four atrociously hot months. That's why she was never really fond of summers. She preferred winters.
Patting her body with a dry towel, she walked into the bedroom butt naked, drew the curtains close and picked out a subtle cotton lavender colored dress with a plain beige shrug. Today she wanted to walk around in as minimum layers as possible. Being all damp and humid with sweat was the last thing she wanted. And discarding those heavy office suits was the best idea. Not that anyone was expecting to see her all dolled up there.
The summer vacations at both Dani's school and Frostford had commenced. And would not end until the beginning of August, into the fall. Dani was out on his study meet with a group of friend's at Liam's house. And Alex was preparing to set off to work at Walker house.
She did not have anything better to do. Nor did she have any plans to go on a vacation. Dani hates to travel and would rather spend the summers lazing around.
After she was done clipping her bra, she picked up the dress and faced the mirror.
And her hands stopped when she looked at the person standing in front of her.
It was the body of a 21-year old woman, who looked rather exhausted for her age. Her own body seemed too old to her and her eyes seem tired and red as if she was high on cocaine; but she was just too exhausted and burnt out.
Her unruly wavy hair that reached her waist that was not blond, but a dirty, dark black. Her dusky olive skin that was unevenly and easily tanned. Her eyes the ordinary color of plane brown and her body just simple petite, breast just the moderate size .
Her hands travelled down to her pelvic areas, just where her thighs began. As expected, they were to thick and ugly to look at. Her thighs and underarms were all adorned with white lines and stretch marks that made her look all the more hideous. And fat accumulated like a small pudge in various places.
She did not find her reflection's face at all pretty to look at. Some people like to convince themself with the motto, "I am not ugly, just broke." But she felt funnily stupid of herself and was convinced, that the sooner she accepted the less hurt it did -
She was not just ugly, but also broke. By money. By circumstances.
She scoffed at her desperation. All these years, many a times she had felt so nastily uneasy of herself when she looked in the mirror. Looking in that silver thing was now just a necessity, not a hobby anymore.
Pulling her dress over her, she swiftly brushed her fingers through her waves and put on the shrug. Since there were no lectures or university stuff, she would start work at Walker house early in the morning and work till late shifts, studying in between her breaks to prepare for term exams. Today would be the same.
"Maybe I can work as a full time intern for these few months. Extra money for another apartment will be easy." , with this last thought, Alex made her way out of the apartment, locking the door behind her.