Daisy, The Great Gatsby

I fell in the love with the words of Fitzgerald, like many others who have read his work. Gatsby is a novel which has become almost an iconic piece of writing which inspired me to write a small piece.

She had money in her voice and magic in her soul.

She drifted around the grand, white room like a snowflake amongst the crispness of winter. Whilst looking at her i felt as if i was watching a movie and she was under the spotlight, flitting around the furniture. But if you looked really closely at her face you could see the sadness that had seeped into her skin but at the same time it was bright. Her bright eyes and her bright, passionate mouth with a voice which rose in the air creating magic which men found difficult to forget. It was the kind of voice that the ear follows up and down, as if each speech is an arrangement of notes that will never be played again.

All this time, Gatsby stood by the white couch, almost invisible in his white suit except the brilliant gold tie that you would associate with such a man. He stood, staring, i watched his expression as he watched Daisy - it was as if as if the ocean was kissing the shore for the first time. He was thirsty and she was quenching his thirst. Gatsby clutched the couch with his right hand and slumped his shoulders, somewhat cowering away from Daisy’s magic, her voice touched him, almost a burden upon him.

Author's Note

I wrote this up in about 10 minutes because i was in the mood to write so it's a very rough draft of what was in my head.