Canny and Couth

By Melissa Mesku

Canny had regular features: a characterless nose, a muted mouth. Couth thought he recognized her but a second later he thought she was someone else. He quickly realized that her forgettable face could easily be anyone’s—almost like a doll’s but not quite pretty enough for even that. His eyes slid across her once more before they got bored and wandered.

He would have forgotten about her entirely but then he remembered something he’d read—something about symmetry being intrinsic to beauty. He glanced once more. It’s almost uncanny how unremarkable she is, he thought to himself. But he said nothing.