Inner Claws

Her hair was a beautiful mess of feisty curls. When she sang her face contorted as if she was making caricatures of various expressions and emotions. Her reactions were that of her riding a wave and rather than having ownership of her voice, her voice had ownership of her. It was a well controlled performance that still had the smell of the wild, that odour so invigorating to breathe in, it brings out a person’s inner claws and uncontainable urge to howl at passersby.

We all have our inner claws.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s