Two girls dead. Young things, she'd read. Just out of college. Miriam imagined short skirts drawn tight across tanned thighs, hoop earrings, poofy hair. The click-clack of four inch heels on the sidewalk. Not like her sensible walkers, all leather with skid-proof soles. They probably wore too much make-up and those silly push-up bras that made young women look whorish.
She belted her coat and clutched her purse tight under her arm. Red-lettered signs plastered the lobby door, alerting residents to the at-large murderer and admonishing care in traveling alone. Miriam hesitated. In the glass she saw her once smooth neck gathered in folds, the sagging jaw-line, eyes sallow and trampled with crows' feet. The raincoat failed to hide the stubby thickness of her stomach. How had she gotten so frumpy looking? She remembered the feeling of weightlessness, of being lifted against gravity, the soft whoosh of tulle as her partner's hands grasped the bottoms of her thighs and held her aloft. In the harsh spotlights the audience had glowed, as she must have shimmered to them, so full of grace thirty years ago.
Miriam smoothed her hair. Perhaps she should buy a small gun, at least some mace. She looked again at her reflection. Age is defense enough, she thought, and pushed into the night.
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In my twenties, I felt beautiful and invincible, eager to flawnt my body, my smooth skin, my golden hair. The consequences of sexual naivete led to self-preservation and fear of going out alone. Now, in my middle years, I again enjoy the freedom in walking unencumbered, with no eyes watching, waiting. Perhaps a false sense of security. This is what I am playing with in this small fiction. Peace...
Linda, This is such a wonderful piece of work. It glistens! "In the harsh spotlights the audience had glowed, as she must have shimmered to them, so full of grace thirty years ago."
fave
Two of the fears that women experience private; assault and aging. Is there a midpoint in life where the fears are balanced?
MaryAnne, thank you for glistening -- and the fave! Much appreciated. Peace...
Berit, provocative comment. Is there a midpoint when the fears of age and assault are balanced? I would hope so. But I can only speak for myself; hence the story. Peace...
Strong little micro. But don't go out alone. And if you do, pack a BIG gun. A .45. *
An odd idea, in one respect, in the premise that freedom is balanced or strictured by fear. It's true, though. just as much for a man as a woman, though in different ways.
I love the image of the dancer, balanced aloft ...
Strong imagery here - Good writing, Linda.
What a wonderful piece. You drew me in with the ballerina photo (on Facebook), it was worth it. It's so achingly well done. Makes me think of a quote from Barbara Walker (Restoring The Goddess): "Just for a moment, imagine a world in which any woman or child might walk alone on any street, back, alley, lonely road, woods path, waterfront, or any other place at any hour of the day or night, and encounter a strange man or men without even a momentary sense of threat. That would be a civilized world."
I feel you might consider incorporating what you wrote in your Note, into the actual story. It's an intensely interesting AUTHOR NOTE and could make the story very dramatic. What you have here is quite wonderful, but what it could be might be life-changing.
This is so real, so honest and yes, a bit frightening in its exposure of the cruelty of nature.
Jack, thanks for star -- and the advice. A big gun. Peace!
James, thank you for the thoughtful comment. It IS that balance between fear and freedom I am starting to explore in many areas -- and how that balance influences the choices we made. I guess you might call it courage (or its flipside cowardice). Peace...
Sam, thank you for reading, always love when you drop by my place. Peace...
Beate -- YES! This is a vision. May every creature walk without fear, everywhere. Peace...
Susan T, nice thought about the author note. I am 'playig' here, with a character, with a concept, looking to see if it could be larger, and how much. Thank you (as always) for the encouragement! Peace...
Susan G, thank you, frightening and honest was what I was aiming for. Peace...
Amazing. Fave!
I second Susan T's suggestion about the author's note.
The image -- and sexuality -- of the dancing comes across vividly. Well done.
I can't help but feel that things worse than crow's feet are coming Miriam's way.
read this on your blog first - loved it there, too. a great arc of storytelling here & i love the author's note, too. peace to you!
Yes, love the author's note as well. But I think the story can stand on it's own. This is a great take on concept and I really love this. Big *
A cautionary tale waxed in flying nostalgia.
*
Insert "In her twenties, she felt beautiful and invincible, eager to flaunt her body, her smooth skin, her golden hair"
after "frumpy looking."
Change "the bottoms of her thighs" to "the backs of her thighs"?
Mmm, yes. Wonderful.
Meg -- thank you! Peace...
Guy, so happy to see you here! And thanks muchos for the star and 'the image -- and sexuality -- of the dancing comes across vividly. Peace...
Marcus, thanks as always for gracing my little stories with your big words. Peace...
Bill, quite like your suggestions on incorporating my author's note intothe body of the story. When I revise I will play with this. You always have such a good eye. Grazie. peace...
Jules, nothing makes me happier than when you write 'Big *' next to one of my stories. Means so much. Peace...
Kathy, mmm... Thank You! Peace...