Emilie smiled her favorite smile: calm and sophisticated, with just a touch of warmth. It was the smile she reserved for people she liked; the smile she used when she actually felt like smiling. She hadn't always been so calculating; there had actually been a time when her face did what it wanted to do, and almost everyone called her Emmy.
But now she was Emilie through and through. The people who had known Emmy were long gone; she had almost forgotten how to live that way, and she didn't miss it. Emmy had felt too much; Emmy had no defenses against cruelty. It had hurt too much to be Emmy; she'd had to give her up. It was the right thing to do.
No sadness. Not ever again. Her face automatically arranged itself into Emilie's cheerful smile number seven.
© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel
Vintage glass cabochons, Swarovski crystals, seed beads, gold filled chain maille. Hand fabricated bracelet.