Ahmed Waheed – författare

The light refracted across her translucent white skin, becoming a new warmth, as if she were not merely receiving the light but radiating it. Her hair-red like a fire when it cools-flowed into an elegant bun that accentuated a neck as pure as ivory, exuding an unpretentious femininity and a strength that sought no permission. She wore a white silk dress that shimmered like a luminous sheet of water, slightly above the knee, cinched with a thin gold belt that proclaimed a waist meant to be celebrated, not concealed. Her shoes, the color of sapphire, glittered beneath the clouds like a pulse of twilight, marking each step as if it were her signature on the earth. Her eyes were green like a forest glistening with dew, the color of emeralds when touched by light. In them lay the purity of childhood and the shrewdness of a woman who knows her beauty and understands its power. Her thin eyebrows were lightly lined with kohl, like a whisper of art, and her face was almost undecorated, yet it held a charm that was difficult to explain - that noble British serenity, inherited from ancient blood that knew the meaning of prestige.