Indian Girl 2more Faceless Clip

It is the most perfect of days.The walk to the bed-and-breakfast is short and the morning delightful. Across the street, men noisily unloading cases of beer, in front a seedy bar pause to watch me. I can feel their eyes on me, devouring me, ravishing me, stripping off my thin dress.I pretend that I don’t see you, my little darlings. You are not my prey today. You could be one day. I’m not above feasting on that wonderful class of men who roll up their sleeves to get done what must be done but today, you are safe.I stop and lean as far over the short fence as I can to breathe in the gardenias, my lean frame stretched out almost painfully in an arch that simultaneously presses out my breasts and my hips. I’m steadied by my right hand on the picket as I pull a flower close to my nose with my left. My eyes are closed and the silence tells me that your work has ceased. Your eyes are fully upon me and upon nothing else.A moment of bliss where the world is mine… then a release as I. A couple lay together on the bed, facing each other as they slept. The bed lay in a pool of light that was centered on the couple. The pool of light created dark shadows around the outside of the bed.At the foot of the bed a pair of bright eyes watched from the shadows as the couple slept.Are they friendly or sinister – those staring eyes? Mum’s drawing doesn’t answer that question. The viewers can decide for themselves.I know my answer. But then, that’s because I know who those eyes belong to.It was almost as if Mum didn’t know the answer. Her drawing wasn’t about that one moment but about the last few days. My body being hidden in shadows was code. She was telling me she couldn’t see me clearly – she didn’t understand me. All she could see were my eyes and she couldn’t read what they were saying.I sighed to myself and looked across at Mum as she slept with her head on the table. What could I do? How could I reassure her when I didn’t know the answers?I picked up the sketch book and.
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