Golden FaceA Poem by Molly
Young lady walking twisted halls of flashy, showy shopping malls once stumbled upon a different store with plain façade and tiny door. Intrigued by lack of flare, she entered and discovered a circular room, centered around a small reception table; seeing no reason to not be able through the room of white she walked intending with receptionist to talk. “Hello and welcome to Golden Face; we can give you one for every place you end up as through life you travel.” Misunderstanding, girl was baffled. “Is your business selling masks?” quietly intrigued girl asked. Smiling, receptionist replied, “No, we help expose one’s best side. Through surgery that’s reconstructive we can make you appear more productive, more beautiful, happy, sexy, cute.” Dumbfounded, surprised girl sat mute. Receptionist says, “Let me ask you this; have you ever felt something was amiss? Something important absent, lacking? Felt alone, like no one’s backing any of your decisions or choices? Like you’ve never felt such sweet rejoices as are felt by those with love, or feel abandoned by One above? Like your mind can never rest, or that you’ll never be a true success?” Girl felt like she’d exposed her soul, and heart she’d thought was hard as coal started beating, and a tear in corner of hazel eye appeared. “Maybe a little,” she quickly stammered as her poor fractured heart furiously hammered. Receptionist a button pressed; she’d perceived girl was distressed enough at least now to peruse the catalog from which she’d choose a brand new face to show the world; shiny and new she’d be unfurled. Up from the floor arose a chair, receptionist directing her, “Sit there and wait a while for my boss. She’ll provide you with that gloss to life for which you have been searching.” And left on tiny armchair perching she sat bemusedly wondering how many others’d come blundering in through these doors and run away? At least this’d be an interesting day. Our protagonist sat contemplating over why exactly she was waiting for the one conducting this grand macabre and eery surgical band. Sure, sometimes she felt out of place but did this warrant a new face? Her face was nowhere close to perfect, but she didn’t think that she deserved it. “This is frivolous; pointless too! If I do this, someday I’ll rue the rash decision I have made!” But her doubts began to fade as soon as the proprietor walked in. From girl’s head the frightful din of fickleness and doubtful thought that normally for hours fought was blown away by a sweet breeze and lilting, harmonious melodies brought on by this woman divine; her height was about five foot nine. Every inch of skin was lustrous, bejeweled she was just like a Duchess but what really caught you was the air of confidence that she ensnared you with; no matter who you were, you couldn’t resist the subtle purr of seductive energy that through her ran. Yet she spoke with such deadpan! Physically, she was more than any man dared to hope for yet, when those luscious lips she parted any dreams you might have started were dashed away by coarsest tongue, the banal idiolect of the young. Young lady waiting patiently now sat fidgeting anxiously, itching for the sweet escape that in twenty steps she could make, yet the lovely golden shell of a woman who might have turned out well had she not lost herself long ago kept blathering to girl, like so; “I promise you beauty not of this earth, I promise you status, a noble birth, a reformation of the the past you. I’ll make you something completely new. Sure, it’s true, you might discover there are new problems you’ll have to suffer. Dirty men who grab your a*s make you fear all men you pass. Those who talk just to your breasts won’t listen to your harsh protests. And you’ll feel yourself just slip away; larger pieces every day until what’s left is…” and she stopped. She realized her thoughts’d been swapped. Once she’d cared so much for beauty, put so much into her vanity, she’d lost herself long, long ago. Her mouth formed an astonished O as girl stood up, and politely said “I think that I quite like my head. My face isn’t the only part; bits of my head make me smart. Other pieces provide my senses. So really, you provide defenses, letting people fail at living as long as they feel that you’re giving them something that will show the rest at least in this they can be best. So, now I’ll leave, and think a while on how to rearrange my smile to reflect my inner joy.” seductive air of that little store, unremarkable yet promising more than anyone should ever need. She rejected this kind of greed. Satisfied with her normal life, she left behind the ugly strife she saw coming from behind that door and swiftly abandoned the horrid store. © 2008 MollyReviews
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3 Reviews Added on March 7, 2008 AuthorMollyAboutI write to write. Not for you. Not even for me sometimes. Inspiration just hits me, and I'll write it down. Sometimes what I write concerns the present, people I know or things I've seen. And other t.. more..Writing
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