I came in with a small pocket mirror that I had picked up in a shop the week before.
When we got there, we had to write a short piece about the character and the item. I liked what I wrote, so I decided to post it here.
Marla Woole
I was standing in the line at the grocery when I pulled out my mirror. I was convinced my mascara had smudged and that would never do.
“Oh what a lovely mirror!”
The voice behind me was one I knew. I had heard it before, at meetings, in shops. I spoke to so many people it was sometimes hard to keep them straight. I turned to the woman with a bright smile on my painted lips.
“Thank you.” I said as brightly as I could manage. I recognized her. Lillian or Lilly, her hair was a pale red- dyed terribly. She hadn’t made the choice to go gracefully into silver like I had. My color also came from a bottle, but it was professionally done.
“Where ever did you get it?”
The smile stuck on my face and I held the mirror closer. “This?”
Oh dear. It was very rare I was caught without a story. I had bought it at a garage sale in Pensy for 50 cents, but that would never do. My reputation would be ruined- Every one knew that Marla Woole had no use for garage sales. It may have been where most of my gathered things I had come from, but really- there was no reason to ruin the fun.
“My second husband gave it to me.”
The lie spilled from my lips almost effortlessly, it should after years of long practice, and I wasn’t about to let my moment’s hesitation undo me.
“He would travel often and he brought it back for me from one of his adventures- Thailand I think.” I felt the sadness creep into my face as I concocted the next bit. I didn’t really want more questions before I could think through all of it.
“He died about six months after. The plane he was piloting went down over Africa while he was on Safari. The man he was transporting survived but he…” I trailed off for effect, and the result I wanted was achieved. Almost on cue Lily or Lillian raised her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. I slowly closed my mirror and slipped it away.
“I’m so sorry… I’m glad you have something to remember him by.”
I offered her a sad smile and turned to the cashier, as it was my turn in line. I paid for my chicken and eggs and with a wistful wave I walked out to the parking lot before I could say anything more. I think my best skill is in dramatic exits.
I didn’t have time to relish in my efforts though. I had more to think about. I had never realized I had been married before, and now I had two husbands to work out-maybe more. I delighted in the prospect. I always love a good story.
I hope y'all enjoyed that :)
Oh! And if you guys wanted to know how my flatmates and I are getting on, here is a small photo story:
They are actually really sweet and a lot of fun. I just wished they weren't so messy!
I really need some Mary-Ann magic up in this joint :P
Until next time!
Edit: Marleigh is excluded in the flatmate complaint because there ain't nothing to complain about :D
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