The Woman With The Soulful Eyes

I sat and watched and didn't smile. It was a good show. I enjoyed it. A lot. But it didn't make me smile. Nothing could.

He'd offered one thousand dollars to the first person who could do it. Several people had tried, but no one had succeeded.

Word was getting around about this mysterious young woman (me) with the soulful eyes who never smiled. The show was getting more well-known, the money was rolling in, and I was a part of it.

People, especially men, took it as a point of pride that surely they would be the one to reach me when all others had failed. It hurt their ego when they joined the growing number of unsuccessfuls.

The bigger we grew, the more famous people wanted to perform for us. For me, really.

The boss smiled broadly, and shook their hands, but I never smiled at all. World renowned comedians came from far and wide. They had the rest of the audience in stitches. But me? I stayed as still and silent as ever.

The boss was generous towards me. He paid me handsomely for my unusual parlour trick. He knew full well that his business and wealth could never have grown the way it did without me, and he compensated me accordingly.

Some of the men who tried became very angry, which could have been a cover for being embarrassed. They must have thought, surely, surely, it wouldn't be so difficult to make me laugh. Everyone else had fallen under their spell, after all. Perhaps they even boasted if their inevitable success, and what they would do with their winnings. It must have have made their failure even harder to bear.

One thing I have noticed, there are a great many men, weak ones, are extremely unpleasant when they don't get their way. When you don't give them what they demand, what they believe is their due. They can even be dangerous. More than once I waved to smile at such a man, to dissipate his brewing rage. But I didn't.

They'd bluster and shout, "it's a trick!"

Even weak men are right sometimes. It was a trick. My face is completely paralysed.

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Word count excluding note: 366

Submitted on Thursday 4th July at 22.51
*Quick Author's Note*

First, and most importantly: thank you so much for reading my story! The ha'penny that Vocal will toss in my hat for your eyeballs landing on this humble piece will be well-spent.
If you enjoyed this one, the very best compliment you can give me is to share it, or read another!
A Year of Stories: I'm writing a story every day this year. This one continues my 186 day streak since 1st January.


Please do consider lending your support to the other creators who are also on this madcap "a story every day" adventure. They are putting out excellent content every day!
Rachel Deeming
Gerard DiLeo
Please do leave me a comment: I reciprocate as many as I can. Leaving a comment makes that easier.

The story behind the story: This is based on a true story. In the early 1900s, "Sober Sue" was a real phenomenon. A prize was offered to the one who could make her smile or laugh, and no one ever succeeded.

I know the formatting is screwy; as soon as I have my new computer I will fix it! My old one has finally given up the ghost, and I'm currently submitting via my phone.

Thank you!

Thank you again, most sincerely. Especially if you are one of the wonderful people who has been staunchly reading these daily scribbles since the start of the year. I see you, and appreciate you very much indeed! 😁

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