Just another dayA Story by ImperfectionBased on my life.Looking into the mirror I add the final touches of color to my cheek. The softness of the brush reminds me of the feel of your fingertips on my cheekbones. I feel a lump rising in my throat. It dies within seconds leaving me empty again. I run the brush through my short hair, then like always, I turn my head both ways to check whether it looks fine. As usual, every strand is sitting obediently in place. My long fingers wrap themselves around the pale-blue bottle of perfume as I gently spray a bit of it onto my skin. Very cautiously, I place it back. I inhale deeply, closing my eyes as I let the familiar smell travel into my lungs. I imagine it traveling inside my body, through my veins and straight into my heart. Will this perfume rejuvenate my soul? Then I pick myself up from the stool and look into the image starring back from the mirror. Our mirror. My petite frame looks fatigued. I am surprised at how my eyes look, despite my best efforts to conceal the tiredness in them with the help of make-up. The maroon lipstick compliments my pale skin. I wonder am I looking paler than yesterday? I try to force a smile to hide the frown. Without much success. The image gets a bit blurry now. I blink repeatedly to stop the tears. Then, I spin around quickly and walk to the far end of the room. The two drawer handkerchief box sits on the Mahogany Chest. Our Mahogany Chest - our first purchase together. I open the bottom drawer first and take out a large checkered handkerchief that I rub against my lips and down the length of my neck before folding it neatly and placing it in my pocket, alongside my heart. Can this lifeless piece of cloth communicate with my heart? From the other drawer, I pull out another piece casually and drop the hankie (mine)into my purse. Finally, I draw my wallet out of the purse and open it. There’s your picture in it. I love the way you smile. Are you smiling at me? I kiss the picture of you and put the wallet back. Your perfume Your handkerchief. And your picture. As I leave the house with the smell, the touch and the image of you, I assure myself that I will be able to go through this day… Another day without you.
© 2008 ImperfectionFeatured Review
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Added on March 9, 2008Last Updated on September 12, 2008 AuthorImperfectionIndiaAboutWriting is easy. You only need to stare at a piece of blank paper until your forehead bleeds - Douglas Adams. I am a woman in my 20's. I love writing...sometimes it doesn't.. more..Writing
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