유리같은아이

her eyes narrow as they flick over the lines of text, back and forth and back again. Her mouth is slightly agape. She takes care to appear impassive, but her expression has stiffened - the lines of her face fixed into place. The playfulness evaporates from her eyes as she combs through each sentence carefully. She blinks a few more times at the screen then looks away. Someone is saying something to her. She raises her head and looks at whoever it is, simultaneously attempting a smile, but falls short - the half-heartedness of the effort appearing way too obvious, underscoring her inner turmoil and unhappiness. But it was too late to do anything by then; the words had already taken root; burrowed deep and fastened their hooks into the corners of her heart, leaving her smile a deflated balloon - all tension and no air.