BEAUTY
- Aug 8
- 1 min read
By Romany Patton
Gaston burned Belle’s books today,
I watched her chase charred pages
as they blew away.
She was meant for more—
a scholar, not this provincial life.
Now she walks past the baker,
face buried in a story
to hide her eye.
Gaston boasts in the tavern,
singing nightly, ten pints deep,
that he has biceps to spare.
No one says no to Gaston—
it’s written all over Belle.
The town sleeps.
Except them.
One punch too many.
The handsome brute finally
caused her to crack.
I watch from my window
as Belle becomes the beast.
Fur, teeth, breath,
a glint in her jaw.
She bites his head clean off.
One snap.
I saw nothing.
By morning,
she’s back at the library,
smiling as she used to.
Put that in your five dozen eggs and eat them.