NiGHTiNGaLE

i decided to title my last assignment to this wordpress blog in this way because i was most captivated by her(the model) expression. i took this picture from a picture frame cutting that my mum had used to make my room look better, and here is the picture…
… hmmm so now since we have a picture…
now lets try to get a story out of that face… Well, first things first, we analyse the facial details, the hair yadda yadda, so.. i would say that she is probaby an american or australian citizen, i don’t know, personally i would rule out British because i feel that brits tend to have a tighter, more severe, academic look.( or maybe its just because i watch to much TV where they tend to show brits as hard working librarians who do all the book work, while the hero does all the ass kicking, like Giles and Buffy.) She seems to be wearing a knitted shirt or cardigan, and could be leaning to look out of a window or out of a tree, while leaning on a tree branch.Blond.
Her expression seems to be one of exhausted(after a long day of farm work or tired from climbing the tree) interest. Its almost enigmatic in the way that you cant exactly tell what she feels about the subject that she is peering at.

So now i shall keep you waiting no longer and get to that story.

Jill looks at the one tree that stood out from all the rest. It’s a strange tree, old and funny. All the other trees had leaves on the top, but this one had them on the bottom, near the ground, as if the sun wasn’t in the sky, but buried in the earth underneath her feet. She wonders how she could have missed this tree, (for not only was it the tallest tree she had seen in the neighbourhood) as she uses this road almost daily to get her meals from the nearby food centre, for both her mother and herself. Looking at the tree, she wonders what it will be like to climb to the top of this,one tree. She has “conquered” all the trees in the neighbourhood except for this one. She touches the skin of the tree. Its comes away powdery in her hand, and immediately brings to mind images of her perched precariously on the shoulders of her late grandfather, who would always take her out for long walks, out in the park. Jill looks up to see something stuck right up at the top of the tree, shinning and shimmering in the bright breezy Monday morning.
Abandoning all pretense of contemplating, she takes her first step up onto the first branch, and slowly but surely shimmying up the tree trunk to find out what was that shiny object, and to see what it was like from up there. one step, another, another.
SLIP
And suddenly her foot finds nothing but air.
Hugging onto the tree for dear life, her feet scrabbles the trunk for purchase. Nothing.
Breathe.Think.Keep calm.Think.
Still flailing her legs madly, she dashes her knee into the tree. Resisting the urge to let go and feel her wound with one hand,Jill grabs the trunk with her knees,
Grab. Pain.
Ignoring the raw pain that shoots through her mind, and excruciatingly climbs all the way to the top.
Feeling tired from the combined battle against the pain and climb, she pushes her hair away from her face to savour the triumphant sight of the tiny ground below, watching the tiny people and cars go by. She looks to her left and finds what she had been after, a shiny flag, Left there by someone