The Art of Blushing

‘I’

The room falls silent, everyone looks at me.

My heart plummets to the pit of my stomach, the vibration ricocheting through me until I feel my cheeks catch fire. I scramble to draw one sharp breath before the heat erupts into the rest of my face. I am a volcano of too much emotion and heightened sensitivity. My hot lava pours out of my underarms and soaks my t-shirt. I can’t fight it now, there’s nowhere to hide. Why am I so haphazard? I surrender to the flames like a forest falling to its knees as the fire spreads. I have no control over my being, I want the sea to scoop me up, drown me and flush me out. When the moment passes after what feels like an eternity, my face feels raw from embarrassment. I am exhausted.

‘She’

The room falls silent, everyone looks at her.

As her embarrassment grows her cheeks blossom, sprouting a rosy glow. She attempts to hide the pink apples either side of her nose with the branches of her hair which only results in an endearing shyness, she is delicately brave and all the while glowing brightly. Her warmth fills the room and radiates to those around her, gently penetrating them and softening their edges. How precious it must feel to bare your soul to the world and bloom with strawberry cheeks, enticing each onlooker with the charm of a dragonfly. Seducing the world one rosy cheek at a time.

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