Date Night

Josephine prepares for an unusual date. The first in a series of stories from Caerulea.

 

         Josephine throws both doors to her mahogany wardrobe open. She hums softly along with the Ella Fitzgerald record she has playing at the foot of her bed. Most of her clothes are permanently stained with grime from her job as a dishwasher at the Hotel Caerulea. Tonight she gets to escape those duties. There are a few dresses on pink satin hangers in the wardrobe. Josephine chooses a dusky rose dress that falls just above her knees and hugs her curves. The neckline is sensible with a keyhole cutout showing only a hint of cleavage.  Josephine shimmies into the dress and turns to the full length mirror on the back of her bedroom door. Reflected back to her is the image of a young woman of average height with hair black and shiny, styled in a bob. A smattering of freckles crosses her nose and cheeks and her eyes are electric green. She smoothes down the dress and smiles widely at the mirror—her freckles stretch taut. 

            Josephine grabs her black boots and backs up to her little bed. The attic bedroom is small and allows for only the wardrobe, a twin bed and a nightstand. She sits upon the peacock patterned bedspread and pulls a wadded pair of black stockings out of one of the boots. She pulls the stockings on and then jams her feet into the black boots which come halfway up her calves. She glances at the fairy clock on the opposite wall. An exquisite purple fairy sits upon a crescent moon—her legs dangling and ticking the seconds while the wings point out the hours and minutes. The fairy tells her it’s not quite time yet to head outside for her date.    

            Josephine hops up from the bed and heads over to the single, small window in her bedroom. She slides the window open then returns to her bed and pulls a pack of mint flavored cigarillos out from underneath. She uses the flame of a blue votive candle on her nightstand to light her cigarillo and takes a deep drag. She then lights a stick of sandalwood incense on her nightstand and the two smokes intertwine and stream towards the open window and the chill night air. 

            She pulls her make-up pouch out from a drawer and heads back to the mirror. She smokes with her left hand while deftly applying blue mascara with her right. Josephine begins to hum again and sway slightly side to side. She dabs a blush brush into dark pink powder and taps off the excess. She liberally applies the blush to the apples of her cheeks but is careful not to obscure her freckles. The blue fringing her eyes makes their green glow even more hypnotic.

                 Josephine tucks her make-up back into its drawer and stubs out the remains of her cigarillo in an ash try hidden under the nightstand. She reaches under her bed and pulls out a frayed green quilt and a bottle of white wine. She walks over to the window and sets these items on the sill—she then opens the window completely and hauls herself up onto the sill. The attic room is four stories high from the streets of Caerulea but there are taller buildings surrounding her. A stone church across the street towers above her. The adjacent buildings have had floors piled atop one another over the years as the population of this city of dreamers has grown, and she would have to crane her neck up to see these roofs.   

            Josephine nimbly steps out of the window onto a portion of lower roof that sticks three feet out from her bedroom wall. She grabs the quilt and wine from the sill. The sandalwood smoke pours out the window and her dress soaks up the scent. She spreads the quilt onto the shingles of the roof and sits sideways with her ankles crossed. 

            Josephine intently watches the open sky between the church and the apartment building on its right. “Not too cloudy tonight,” she murmurs. She twists the top off the cheap bottle of wine and takes a small sip. It’s not too sweet, not too dry. The muffled music of her Ella record drifts out the window giving it a strange underwater quality. She leans her side against the wall and takes another sip of the wine. 

            And then, it happens.

            The moon peeks around the corner of the church’s dark wall. It’s a full moon tonight. As the moon slowly brings its glowing white body into view Josephine gapes in amazement. Its dim light manages to illuminate a stained glass window up near the bell tower of the church and an image of a radiant angel blazes. The brilliant glass shines blue, white and gold. The moon continues its slow march across the sky and Josephine remembers her wine. She takes another sip and then pours some wine off the roof as an offering to the moon. 

            After half an hour the moon recedes behind the apartment building—hiding itself once more. Josephine stands up, carefully placing a hand against the wall to steady herself. She bundles up the quilt and tosses it back in through the window. She screws the top back onto the wine and steps back into her bedroom. She’ll wait another four weeks for her next date with the moon.   

Author's Note

Is this literary fiction?? I guess I'm not sure.

Reviews

[Legion]

This was different. A bit of fresh air actually. Very simple, yet deeper than the darkness of obsidian. I like it. Can't wait for more.

[J-Boo]

Ooooh, I like this story. Very descriptive, as Carla said, so that have a really good sense of Josephine and her surroundings. Intriguing and beautiful surroundings.

As far as suggestions, I noticed that many of the sentences begin with "Josephine" or "she," over and over. I really don't know how to change this, though. The only other minor suggestion is about the fairy clocl - since the description says it's a fairy on a moon later in the next sentence, maybe you should at first call it a 'fanciful' clock or something, to avoid using the word 'fairy' too close together (and then again in the next sentence).

But I like it! I want to know more about Caerulea! What kind of place is it? Have you worked on any other stories about it??

[Carla (trying to make e..]

Makes you wonder what she is really doing up there.
very descriptive.
I liked it..

Carla