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Jessica Hepworth

You delicately swirl the teaspoon through your coffee, watching as

the frothing forms intricate twirls of creamy whiteness and shades

of chestnut brown. When you are content with your creation, you

rest the teaspoon on the saucer, and slowly draw the cup to your lips.

As you swallow you feel the warmth spreading throughout your body,

beginning in your chest before radiating through to your fingers and

toes. You place the cup back on it’s saucer.

The small coffee shop is only slightly busy this morning. The soft

whisperings of conversations from occupied tables congregate to

create a light buzz that fills the room.

You look out the large window to your left and watch as passers-

by hurry about in the frost outside, no doubt engulfed in their busy

schedules and petty desires; never stopping to watch the world

around them. Each nameless face appears in your view for only a

moment, before passing out of sight, a moving artwork framed by

the window’s edges.

A woman comes into view. She is young, dark-haired and

beautiful, but what strikes you most about her is her elegance. She

wears a draping, deep brown fur coat which she wraps around her.

She must be wealthy, no doubt a glamorous model or movie star, or

the wife of some successful businessman. She steals a quick glance

behind her before disappearing out of view. But now your mind is

emblazoned with her image. You take out your notebook and your

favourite pen, and begin to write:

Sabrina. An elegant name for an elegant woman. With poise and class she walks

through the streets of New York. When she speaks she does so with purpose, in a

smooth, deep voice which puts everyone under her spell.

Her life is a privileged one.

That night, like every other night, Sabrina is escorted home by her chaperone.

After another day modelling some of the world’s finest clothing, she wears her

grandmother’s coat. She knows it is a hideous thing, but her Vera Wang is in for

dry cleaning and she had already worn all her others more than the acceptable

amount of times this season. It may as well be the least valuable thing she owns.

The drive is short and in no time she is travelling up and in a shining silver

elevator. She opens the door to her penthouse suite. Sabrina takes off her coat and

throws it carelessly across the tabletop. It really is much too worn and outdated

for someone like herself.