Ashlee

Ashlee
As perceived by Nathan Rice

Thick, walnut colored hair cascades down to her shoulders, framing her face much the same way a painting is held within its wooden borders. It ripples and curls upon itself like waves on the ocean, eventually breaking on her shoulders, shimmering with light. Strands of it float about her face, standing apart from the rest, as if competing for attention. When down it is nearly constantly a mass of curls, but when pulled back, it’s well ordered chaos.

Her clear, azure eyes, looking out from behind gold framed glasses, seem to be smiling at all times, even when the mood is dark as if they alone know a secret and are just waiting to be discovered. Well-defined cheekbones rest high on her face, lending to her eyes a quiet concentration.
Her lips are full and red, until she smiles and they transform into soft, thin lines of rose tint. It’s a slightly curving smile with sharp corners that accent her strong jaw-line. Her cheeks are flushed cherries, mimicking the color of her lips. Her head rests on thin, broad shoulders giving way to the delicate bones of her neck and arms. Her hands are soft and warm, those of an experienced mother. Her long fingers but short nails echo the fact that she hasn’t the time to pamper herself. The rest of her body compliments her features like the broad brushstrokes of a fine painting.

The sweat-shirts she likes to wear make a vain attempt to hide her curves, but mistakenly accentuate them. Her snug-fitting jeans elongate her legs and make her seem taller than her average five-foot-three height. She wears simple brown sneakers with mismatched laces, one brown and one pink. This doesn’t bother her, it’s just the way she likes it.

She moves with grace around her small house, deftly avoiding toys (or an infant that might be underfoot) while she attends the daily household chores. A skilled artist when it comes to domestic matters of house and home, she’s a shy girl, however, when she finds herself in unfamiliar territory, drawing into a self-made turtle shell where she watches everyone and everything, just drinking it all in. She scribes this all in a proverbial mental notebook for later use.

A soft warm smile reflects her steady personality. With patience set in stone, she mediates even the most unforgiving wars of childhood. Never raising her voice is a staple of her persona. A passing acquaintance would never know if she ever had a bad day in her life. Her quiet pride wouldn’t allow for even the slightest breach of her demeanor. Each person she meets is treated like an old friend, with gentleness and caring.