Which to Wear

Today's muse: Pictures, Poetry & Prose


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Which to Wear

Wandering into the luxurious bathroom, Jacqueline avoided the mirror’s reflection that held little resemblance to the vibrant woman she once was. Hair that danced in flirtatious curls around her shoulders, now hung lifeless down her back. She understood, now, why Evan insisted she keep it long.

She fought to control her trembling hands as she applied makeup with meticulous care. Despite her diligence, she knew he would find fault. He always did.

The backless, red silk dress hung in her walk-in closet, replaced now with the gown laid out on the king-sized bed. The black, sequined dress would better camouflage the signs of his most recent discipline.

Evan entered the room, his footsteps muffled on the plush carpet, and placed his hands on her shoulders. It was an act of possession, rather than affection. She doubted he was capable of the latter. Jacqueline suppressed a shudder when he bent down to kiss her neck.

“We will have a wonderful evening,” he murmured. His voice hardened as his hand bit into her shoulder. “Provided, of course, you behave.”

His warning hung in the room like a heavy fog, leaving her breathless and frightened. When he left, she met her gaze in the mirror, questioned the pale blue eyes that stared back.

Had she made the right decision?

Jacqueline closed the ivory compact, put it back in its designated place inside the vanity drawer. After a quick glance in the mirror, she pushed aside the ceramic box that held her shadows and fingered the antique sheering scissors hidden beneath.

Her eyes darted back to the mirror. She didn’t see the straw-coloured hair that hung below her shoulders. Instead, she saw a walnut bob that hung in a classic cut just below her chin.

Yes, she thought, when she left tomorrow, she would wear a new face.

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Note: This piece was edited on February 22, 2011. The original version can be read by following the muse link above.