Blind Skinned Beauty Podcast Novels & Stories

“I promise.” “That’s it,” the madman praises me, his wide smile audible in his voice. “Hold onto that hope, my beauty.” Before I can stop him, he straightens me up and looks me over, studying my fair skin even as he makes it positively crawl. Already I can feel myself lighting up again, the moon’s light surging through my veins out of instinct rather than skill. Blaises tsks, “We’ll have to do something about this magic of yours. You could really do some damage in the right circumstances.”

A painting hangs beside his desk. I don’t know why it draws me in, but I find myself walking closer. Thick strokes of midnight blue and charcoal gray layer the canvas. In the center — barely visible unless you truly look — a thin streak of gold cuts through the darkness. Not bright. Not loud. Just there. A quiet fracture of light. It isn’t something you glance at. It’s something you feel. My fingers almost lift to touch the textured paint. Why would a blind man choose something so visual?

Family United Lana ' s POV "The sky is turning pink. Like cotton candy. With orange streaks running through it. " Sarah' s voice was full of wonder. We were sitting on the steps of the safe house Derrick had brought us to. Dawn was breaking. The police had finally let us leave the hospital. "Cotton candy?" I smiled. "I' ve never seen cotton candy. " "Really? Never?" "I lost my sight when I was seven. Before that, I don

Then, I confronted him sternly, "I'm here for a facial. Why did you take my clothes off?" Looking stunned, he jeered. "Oh, Daphne, do you really not know what kind of place you're at?" "A beauty salon! What place is this?" While speaking, I felt a wave of heat rapidly spreading from the pit of my stomach across my body. Caleb, who noticed my change, pinned me down on the bed. He traced my body with his slender fingers, sending me trembling. As much as I would like to struggle and break free, my body already went limp after Caleb's teasing. I lost control of my body and couldn't push him off me. Breaking down, I yelled, "What are you doing? This is rape—"

Satisfied with my outfit, I applied gel to my hair and brushed it backwards. My black hair looked smooth and shined under the morning sun. I picked a sunglass and set out to work I stopped by at a restaurant across my house and people could not stop staring at me. I knew I was handsome but I don't like this attention. Don't get me wrong, I'm used to people's attention but today's own seemed extraordinary. As I walked by people to go seat in a corner, I heard their comments 👥️️ Oh My God!!! Who's this handsome hunk??

"You sound almost–" "Haughty, ungrateful, depreciative?" she cuts me off, unnerved, even though I was going to say exactly that. "One looks at a painting or a sunset or a cake and calls it beautiful. A human comes into sight, pleasing one's eye, and he or she is called beautiful too." "Your point?" "Our definition of beautiful is superficial and skin deep," she looks at her hand in the water. A tiny orange fish passes through the space between her slender fingers. A smile blesses Celeste's lips and my eyes. "It's more about what lies beneath the surface."

She explained further that I had been walking home and was struck by lightning while listening to my music with my ear buds in. I now would have scars on the sides of my face. However that's not what I was worried about most. I was about to say something when a nurse came into the room. "Oh look who's finally awake!" She said with a bright smile. 'Ugh those scars are hideous! At least her dad is a good lay' The nurse said but once again her mouth didn't move. What the fuck was going on here? The nurse pressed a button on a machine that was hooked up to a blood pressure cuff. 'Ugh stupid machine!' She thought then came over to manually take my blood pressure.

We walked into the girl's ward to see her on her bed staring into space. She flinched In shock noticing a presence In the room, I rolled my eyes in disgust getting irritated by her behaviour. I know I'm supposed to be nice or show empathy but 'ugh' I just hate woman with pale white skin, I prefer ladies with a darker skin like Whitney. Pale white skinned women look like they would snap if they are touched. "Stay still missy, so I can get this thing over with" I said within gritted teeth but instead she moved back in fear.

The Inhumane squatted looking at Jared smoky eyes. “There are many scarred people around, he is just too scared of having his life stick to one place on top of that making babies as many as possible. I’m sorry he’s not the type of guy who could do all that.” “I figures.” “Hmm, your eyes?” “So you noticed. And your guess is right, I’m blind.” The Inhumane claimed with a big smile on his face. — “Is that all?” The one wearing a multi-colored beanie asked as he was seen now tuning his small wooden guitar.

The stranger seated, the hug relinquished and released, the mangled memory of the head tipped back, she turned the TV up. Knife in hand, the woman’s grungy blouse pushed to the chin, she kneeled. She listened. He can change, too. She’s me, she thought, looking at the wispy brown hair and the mangled remnants of what had been a somewhat pretty face. What makes her different? I don’t know. No? No. Then find out. How? Start with what you see. Yes. And then go beneath. *** “Slide your fingers under the skin,” the pleasantly plump goddess from East Hampton was saying as she splayed a chicken breast on the cutting board. “Loosen it, carefully, from the flesh . . . ”