Brown eyes alternating between bright as a sparrow and dull as a beetle flick around the room.
The bow of her lips twang as a stolen moment leads to internal laughter. They fall flat once again as the bowman returns to the present.
The string is pulled taught as her mouth stretches to form a frigid smile, apples of her cheek frozen by the frost of professionalism.
Thin fingers take on an a robotic clacking pattern as the thoughts whirr and the eyes darken. Concentration brings wrinkles to the forehead and rabbit-like twitching to the nose.
The face falls flat, the email sent.
The business smile returns, head tilted to listen better to the higher powers.
A worker ant sent sprawling in a hamster’s well, a rat in a cat race, a china plate in a bull shop.
She contemplates herself and, unimpressed, burrows back into her work.
A very poetic synopsis! I like it, though the meaning goes over my head LOL! A bit too tired to do hard thinking.
Personally, I would space out the sentences a bit more!
As always, deeply enjoy your style! Original descriptions make me very happy when I read them.
Spread out! And Lollll to the no hard thinking. To summarize, daily life is an art form as long as we choose to view it from an outsider’s perspective. But, being an outsider is never truly our state, as we view ourselves through art.