 | |  | |  | |  | |  |
| Vanity Fair by Rebekah Griffin Greene, ca.1994, after the Winter Olympics and the ice skating scandal... She stood, icy flesh glaring in the cold light, daring all to look at her, each silver sequin shooting crystal daggers to gouge out the eyes of those who would glance with even a hint of compassion. Scorn sparked from each sprayed spiral, and hearts were torn with a toss of her yellow head. "Worship me" her forked tongue hissed, rolling out like a red plush carpet to sweep the innocent into her venemous jaws. Ah, sharp-toothed beauty, you are dangerous indeed. Are you afraid that One will come who knows your stony heart has a hole where Life could be? |