Two beautiful green eyes were staring at her from the mirror, eyes sodden with sadness. In these eyes the sadness always, even in the merriest moments, somehow managed to crawl in and take its proper place. And the present moment wasn't a merry one at all – she had realized she was head over ears in love.
Yes, for Belinda the infatuation meant only more and more sufferings, because she knew pretty well that no one would marry a woman like this. Thirty three years old already, she had never had sex and probably would never will. Belinda examined with disgust the nice features of her face – the delicately rounded cheeks, the lush lips, the volitional chin and the childish, slightly snub nose. She did not want to be pretty; she wanted to have a face of a witch. Because then the things would not have gone that far. Maybe.
She dug her nails in her pale cheek and burst into tears, then grated her teeth angrily, clenched her fists and started punching her crippled left leg.
When she was three Belinda developed rare neurological disease on account of which her left leg withered, shortening by nearly ten inches, becoming a useless appendage to the body. Belinda gradually got used to the fact that she was different from the other children and managed to find good friends that didn't pay attention to her defect, treasured her qualities as a human being and helped her at school. Teachers admired the unconventional thinking of the crippled girl and gave her good marks. But with puberty came the serious problems.
Her friends found boyfriends and started sexual life, but no one seemed to notice her, including He. Belinda was aware that's normal – she was invalid after all, but was suffering badly nonetheless. She sank into melancholy, secluded herself from the outside world and started thinking of suicide. She vowed never to fall in love again. Thanks to her dedicated parents she somehow managed to finish her secondary education.
The tension gradually diminished. Belinda accepted her fate and bravely moved down the uneven road of life. She graduated in graphic design, got a job in an advertising agency and moved to live independently. Her parents were proud of her, and not without reason. Her colleagues liked her for she was good-natured, imaginative and could do miracles with Photoshop but felt awkward in her presence. She was different. She could not hike the mountains. She could not venture going to the seaside and change into bathing suit, because everyone would see her withered, stick- thin leg and her unnaturally bent foot which had not been slipped into a shoe for almost thirty years now. She preferred long skirts regardless of the season and wore them even in the sweltering august heat, for she felt more comfortable that way. Thus she could be mistaken for a girl with a sprained ankle. Misunderstandings occurred sometimes. One day a client, succumbed to her charm, made open advances, and then asked her if she had been in an accident and how long she will be on crutches. Belinda just pulled her skirt up to her thigh, showing the maimed limb, quenching his lust right away.
.... There is more of this story ...