Three graces

One, two, three. All blond, all in their twenties, all attractive and looking alike--sisters, no doubt--, but how remarkably different. The first one--the tall one, who was wearing the pink scarf and the brown coat--seemed so full of herself, not even glancing at me. Later, when she got back to her table, I saw her kissing her husband. He had a very large ring on his left hand. The way she walked, in large strides, her face always looking forward, allied to something else in her posture suggested that her work, if she still had one, demanded more attitude and beautiful looks than talent or hard toil. Her blonde hair fell beneath her shoulders and was the longest of the three women; she wore heavy make up, eyelids shaded green. I was more interested in her sisters. The two followed her two steps behind, exchanging a quick word, then silent. The one in the middle, who was an inch or two taller than the last, seemed to be the youngest. Her hair was the darkest of the three, yet still undeniably blonde. She had squinty eyes of a dark brown shade. She glanced at me as she would to any stranger at all. Of the three, she was the least interesting, and I can barely remember what she was wearing. It is true, she had the largest breasts, but she lacked the mien of an attractive women, neither wearing her body with the knowledge that eyes were always following her, nor completely oblivious to her beauty. The third one caught my eyes. She was not the prettiest of the three; that spot belongs to the first one. She had light blonde hair, which fell a little more than an inch below her ears, and wore a long checkered skirt, falling way below her knees, the sort of which you don't see much these days and that makes the imagination of a man run at full speed. While she talked to her sister she stretched her neck, to be closer to her and to be not heard by anybody else, and she played with her necklace.

I think she was a little shy. I think that because her dark green eyes locked into mine for a whole second, as I watched her walking, until she finally broke contact and stared firmly at her sister's back. I saw the glimpse of a smile on her lips, contained with all her will, and that now she had something else to talk to her sister. I only pitied that she sat with her back to me, and I left the restaurant without seeing her hidden smile once more.