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Acrylic French Nails (Free verse) by Dovina

Her glistening nails, long and thick, newly crafted— the French acrylic style, transparent finish over finger flesh, opaque on talon ends, where were the color ordinary would have trimmed in white or pink. Nothing I’d not want for mine, save cost and upkeep, (growth requiring fill, aging causing cracks) and yes, one other thing— her French nail ends were green. Still I complimented her sincerely then couldn’t figure why, except for shine and shape and for a rating of herself a person worth adorning. Thank you, she replied, I wanted to look different. Then an answer rose within in vindication of my praise, for I could not imagine one so bored with looking right she employs devices to be different.

Dovina 31-May-05/11:20 AM
Dear DoubleU, zodiac, Intransit, and rockmage,

Thank you for expressing disillusionment. All of you seem to think I must have meant something more than “She wanted to look different,” and for granting me that much respect, I thank you.

Imagine a woman who tries all her life to match the ethics and appearances her peers expect from her. She knows she is different and wants very much to be accepted. So she dons stylish clothes and adopts mannerisms, hoping to be perceived as cool. But despite her efforts, she finds herself always saying the odd thing or acting in some unacceptable way.

One day she meets a woman with green tips on her newly done nails. That’s odd, she thinks. Why would anyone deliberately do something odd? Then it dawns on her that this woman just naturally fits in and feels bored with the thing our woman spends her energies trying to gain.




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