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“The Woman In Her Mind”

The Children

By jean biedererPublished 3 years ago 6 min read
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Mark, my encouragement when I become blocked.

Loud music filled the room, making it hard to hear anything else. Calling out to the kids, not getting an answer, but with the music so loud, even the Devil couldn't hear her. Walking into the living room, she crossed the floor to the stereo, turning it down, a good oldie song came on, as she set her bags down. She begins to sway her body across the large living room, on the tongue grooved wooden floor. Looking to the floor, she kicks off her heels, sliding her nylon feet, smoothly across as her slender body continues to sway to the soft melody of the music.

Sometimes on slow, lazy days like this, she could almost forget. She could believe nothing had changed. That she was still back there, twenty years ago, before all the tragedies hit her beautiful life and began to slowly spread through her happy life. How could anyone believe it could happen so fast, yet in slow motion, over the last twenty years. But that was yesterday, her life had to go on as if she was as happy now as she was then. No one needs to know the darkness that lived with her every day, the nights she laid on the silk sheets, hugging her pillow with her head buried, deep into it, so no one outside her world could ever hear the slightest sniffle.

She would wake in the morning, several hours before the kids, exercise for two hours, knowing she never wanted to look in a mirror and see some old forgotten women, left to grow old, solo, in solitary. Her hair was placed in hot rollers, cooling as she applied her makeup on to perfection, not missing a spot of precision. She then slowly unrolling her curlers, not pulling one curler to early or her hair would not stay in place all day. Even if she was late to eat her breakfast with the kids, there was always time to be beautiful like the days so long ago.

She made it to the kitchen after dressing, before she began to hear the kids upstairs. She could hear them dressing as they joked around as kids did. By the time the kids made it down, the table was set and their eggs and meat, cooked to excellence, sausage for the youngest and bacon for the oldest, along with crispy hash browns for one and soft hash browns for the other. She sat at the table drinking her homemade energy drink, made of ripe, red strawberries, luscious, sweet, green grapes, bright, yellow, bananas, that were the ideal firmness, blender to a thick, mouth-watering indulgence.

The kids got up placing their dishes in the sink after scraping and rinsing them, kissing her on the checks at the same time, then moving off to get their books and rushed out the door, waving behind them as they soft said their goodbyes.

Before leaving the table, her black, shinny, high heels, slipped from her feet. She got up from the table, taking her glass with her to the sink, washing the dishes, and moved to the living room. She stopped to turn on the stereo as she admired her floors. She loved those hard, wood floors, that laid throughout the house, the way they glazed with the wax. She took a couple of steps as her small feet in nylons slide across it, she loped onto the soft, plush, couch, the old music drifting through the air, she laid there contently. Her mind began to slip into the past, she seemed to be sliding over waves of bellowing, white clouds that turned into butterflies dipped down to tickle her tiny nose with their antennas. She began to laugh out loud, bellowing the laughter from deep down in her belly, even as small and flat as it was. She snapped back to reality, ending with a childish giggle, feeling the eternal happiness she knew she would have until the end of her days. She decided to put on the last dress, the one she had bought before all the haunted days came to pass.

She stood up from the couch, pausing as her arms reached to the hem of the slinky, smooth, black dress, laying close to her soft, tender skin. She had no neighbors to see through the big bay windows, making her fearless to undress in any room of the house. Her fingertips gently grasp the edge of the dress, sliding it slowly up over her head, dropping it onto the floor. Her smooth hands began to roam her body, from the tops of the nylons, she tenderly moved her fingertips over the lace of her garter belt. She began to slither her hips as her feet slide towards her bedroom.

Opening the closet door as she reached it, she stepped inside and moved to the back, where the new dress was still in the store's bag on its hanger. She had never owned a black dress before then, to her, they were just to damn depressing. Everyone kept telling her she needed a little black dress, but no one could tell her really why she needed one. She finally consented, now wishing she had never done that. It was like that black dress had brought all the darkness in her life that day. Laughing to herself, now she was going to finish that darkness off by putting it on.

She removed the hanger from the rack, stepping out of the closet, closing the doors, and walking back into the living room, where the music continued to play soft, loving oldies. Tossing the hanger to the couch as she walked to the bar. Stepping behind the bar, she reached for a tall, cold glass, setting it on the bar, filling it with crushed ice. Reaching into the small refrigerator behind the bar, she pulled out a bottle of vodka. She opened it, pouring it over the ice, then replaced it in the refrigerator, taking out the orange juice, and doing the same. Half and a half was just right. She reached for her medicine, pouring it out into her hand, tossing them into her mouth, lifting her glass, she drank it half down. Then refilled it.

Taking her glass, she slides over the floor to the couch, setting her glass on the end table, after another good swig. She removed the bag from the hanger and studied the black dress. Wondering, could it be cursed, or was all just a coincidental. That little black dress that all her friends insisted she needed was the beginning of all her pain, all her bad luck. But when she brought up it is a curse, they all denied something so crazy. Where were all those good friends now, gone, just gone?

She reached for her glass, it was empty. Standing up and moving back to the bar to make another, as she did, she couldn't remember if she had taken her medicine, if she had, another dose would not hurt her. After making the drink, she opened her pills again and poured them into her hand, popping them into her mouth, she drank her glass completely down. As she swallowed the last drop, she started to make another drink.

Sitting on the couch, taking that awful black dress off the hanger, she staggered to her feet. Raising the dress over her head, getting a bit dizzy, the dress slipped quickly down over her slim body. She twirled herself around the living room, landing on the couch, kicking her feet up onto it, she folded her hands on her flat stomach and closed her eyes. ` `

Written By: Jean Marie

grief
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