The exercise:
Let's go with: the costume party.
Kat and I had a lot of fun at the one we attended last night. There were a lot of cool costumes; I wish I'd brought my camera. I'll get Kat to take a picture of me in my pirate outfit tomorrow, since I think I'll get dressed up to hand out candy to the neighborhood kids.
Mine:
The punch must have been spiked.
It seemed terribly unlikely, but that was the only explanation Jenny could come up with for having forgotten what costume Erica was wearing. They'd only arrived an hour ago and Jenny couldn't spot her anywhere.
A pirate? No. A pimp? Inappropriate. The Grim Reaper? Too morbid.
With a little luck she'd discover that she'd chosen her daughter.
I'm looking forward to seeing you as a pirate! I'm sure everyone who reads this blog is too, but are just a bit shy about saying so :)
ReplyDeleteHeh, I love the fact that Jenny can't remember what her daughter's dressed up as! And that it sounds like the rest of the parents will be having similar problems....
(A pimp? Is this a Brittney Spears themed party?)
The costume party
Felicity hated costume parties. There was no way – absolutely no way – she was hiring a costume, because you never knew what people might have gotten up to in it. You heard stories, about people having sex in their costumes, and you saw the evidence of people throwing up in their costumes... no, she couldn't wear something someone had done that kind of thing in.
Buying a new costume was a problem too. The ones she'd be willing to buy were simply too expensive, and the ones she could afford were just horrid. Who, really, wore man-made fibres next to their skin? It would probably dissolve if it came in contact with her good moisturiser.
She wasn't making one herself as that was too much effort. Her slave had died last week, possibly through inhaling too many bleach fumes after she's made him scrub the bathroom until she could see her face in the floor. The child-labour sweatshop she part-owned was currently in a transport crate heading to Singapore to avoid Interpol, and her mother had quite deliberately chewed her own hands off to avoid having to help her only daughter.
Felicity sighed, and strode into the hall, her head held high. She knew that her Lady Godiva costume would turn heads, but did it have to be so damn cold in here...?
Greg, you always have an intense twist, interesting.
ReplyDeleteMarc, cute ending!
The Costume Party
She decided on the red chiffon gown, calf length, to show off her dancer's calves. Frills around the low cut, round neckline; a full skirt, giving something to grab and swirl if she dared to do the Flamenco for which she was dressed. The dress swished as she paced over to the dressing table, an antique piece left her by her mother. She pinned the black lace mantilla around her head and gathered a black lace shawl loosely around her shoulders. One last thing - a dab of Maja at each wrist, its warm, spicy fragrance hinting at summer nights on a Spanish balcony overlooking a grove of olive trees; the perfume had also been a favourite of her mother's ... Her costume was complete. She looked in the mirror and the reflection stared back with her Mother's eyes, the memory of her still sharp in Maria's brain. The scent she wore enhanced the memory. Tears threatened, but she banished them with a swipe at her eyes which now wore a shiny sparkle gleaming from the mask. She was ready for the Ball at Carnivale, Venice's annual charity ball was as popular as ever.
Would this be her lucky night? Would she meet her Prince Charming? Mother had done so, many moons ago; that's how Maria got here. Maybe a little borrowed luck would waft across the dimensions from heaven to Venice from Mother...just for tonight...
Greg - Felicity sounds quite lovely, it's hard to believe she has no friends around who would be willing to help her out!
ReplyDeleteWorld of Exp. - really lovely. Some great imagery and atmosphere in there.