chapter 1

a work in progress

Chapter 1

Anna was lying in a position and a place in which she was often found. On a mattress rested on the oak wood floor of her dingy room, she lay stretched out, stomach down, chest propped upward by raw elbows, legs bent at the knee, feet protruding skyward, and hands occupied by a romantic novel of sorts (a genre she took to nearly as much as, ironic it may be, nonfiction). Though she had been awake nearly since dawn, her stirring had remained to the familiar confines of her bedroom surroundings, nose deep in her book.

            It was in this engrossed state which Miriam, the eccentric, green-eyed, auburn beauty, sharing a strikingly familial resemblance to her niece, discovered Anna. Contorting her face in fright, the older woman nearly jumped out of the door which she had not a moment before entered. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “You gave me a fright!” Miriam continued, feigning crossness. With a forced huff of her breath she smiled down on Anna, taking in the scene of the oak paneling, the bed frame to match and the girl who lay rested atop.

 “Anyhow, a telegram arrived, addressed to you from some dubious anonymity, H.H.,” Miriam declared, extending her left hand, telegram in tow, towards her niece, her gaze fixated on the expert penmanship of the spidery scrawl, her mind occupying itself with the failed attempt of recollecting any H.H. At this Anna rolled to her left side, propping herself now on the corresponding elbow, finding a space that had prior been vacant taken by her aunt.

All dressed for Sunday visits, the older Heller woman was clad in a refurbished tea dress of floor length white linen and a billowing, crocheted lace bodice to match. The skirt was simple enough, if not a bit long for casual attire, and thin to combat the September heat which, in October, had not yet dissipated. Miriam’s boots, running up the length of her ankle and pausing at the calf, were not only dated in fashion, but in desperate need of repair. They had witnessed the turn of many a season, as told by damages ranging from scruff to discoloration. In the very least, they had been white upon the date of purchase, though undoubtedly surpassing half a decade. The upper portion of the sleeves were puffed, but not in a girlishly inappropriate heaps at the shoulders. These particular drags of tulle were mild, at most, in their expansion, and spread so evenly from yolk to elbow, that only the contrasting fit of the lace forearm, a glove-like extension ending in wispy tendrils at smooth, white knuckles, gave its upper counterpart any recognition. The neck was high, fully encasing its slender length, and doing well to canvas the freckled skin beneath.

Though Miriam’s wardrobe did undergo frequent alterations, she never strayed entirely from their dated base which suited her form so well. In this small way Miriam made it known that she was, if anything, aware of her figure. Though her forearms were not so large as to be characterized unfeminine, the same could not be said for the fleshy circumference of her shoulders, which, cursed by genetic muscularity, were freckled in heaping masses of browns and tans, altering her fair complexion for the worse.

Regardless of these minute physical setbacks, Miriam’s torso was long, her waist cinched by nature, her clavicle prominent, her hips wide and rear full, her stature stretched, and  the appearance of her features striking.

In addition to these attributes, Miriam Grace Heller established a presence, within the limits of propriety, in every social circle graced by her attendance. She was a kind woman on any given day, but not one to be taken advantage of. Like many women of society she had two faces, which variant on the situation and circle, were interchangeable. She knew her wine, not only as lady, but as a connoisseur, and whilst her budget was not without its limits, she knew how to spend, and exactly where a lady ought to invest; gowns, trinkets, and the commodities of comfortable living were not exceptions.

Reviews

[kgirl]

In my opinion, I do get that you're trying to paint a picture, but I feel this was (almost) only description and not enough story.

[Hannah]

Yeah, I tend to sort of fall into the rabbit hole when it comes to imagery. What if I were to continue with the same description, only this time with the development of plot?

[kgirl]

I do think it would be better! But honestly, for my personal (at least), it would've still be a lot of description.