A Specimen

She's a Specimen. She is a Creature. She is unlike anything you've seen.

She's got a beauty that has been hidden for most of her life. I have just seen it for the first time. I have a feeling there is still some hiding. It was hidden by her gangly arms and lack of eye contact. It dwelled behind her crooked teeth and scraggly hair.

She doesn't do things her age. She does other things. Animals. Drawing. Reading. She loves those things.

She's tall. She looks down on others. She is quiet. She is witty and clever, but she doesn't talk directly to anyone. She has a commentary to herself about the surrounding conversation. I don't know what to do with it. Do I respond? Does she mean to be heard? Do I laugh? It doesn't seem like her words are aimed at anyone. It's more of a broad but quiet cannon, shooting the thoughts out. Whoever wants to be hit by the shrapnel of her mind may do so. I don't know if I want to.

She really is a Creature. Unlike other creatures.