It was dark in the two story house; all the
lights were off.
The woman trudged around the house
clutching her chest. She was very weak, though her
matching coat and skirt hid how frail her body was.
She slowly walked down the hallway, passing the window where you could see her paradise
green Lincoln Coupe car parked in the driveway.
With each step she took towards the full length
mirror in her living room, her breathing became
more rigid. Wrinkles, dark circles, and smeared
makeup suffocated her very being.
She halted at the mirror and stared at her
refl ection; at the nylon stockings that covered her
decaying legs. The stockings were fl awless, not a
tear in sight. They radiated perfection.
Tears sprung from the woman’s hazel eyes,
which became more dull by the second. She raised
her arm and adjusted her hat, loosening the few
clumps of strawberry blond hair she
had left. She weakly posed in front of
the mirror, smiling widely with sagging, spotted
cheeks.
She felt her soul withering – she felt her
body beginning to fall – she felt her spark of life go
out like a match.
“Beautiful,” she said, before collapsing to
the floor.
One day earlier, a chime was heard at the
door, and a young strawberry blonde with bright
hazel eyes walked inside. She wore a matching coat
and skirt, a small hat on her head. A poster advertising women’s nylon stockings was pictured on the
wall next to the wooden register. The store owner
offered to show her what they had in stock.
The strawberry blonde nodded, and took a
seat on the couch that had a large landscape mirror
hung on the wall behind it. The shop owner showed
the young woman the tights, and the two looked at
the brand new pair together. The customer noticed
a few sunspots on the woman’s hand, but didn’t
think anything of it.
She trotted over to the changing room
and as she pulled the stockings over her ankles, a
strange yet euphoric feeling crept up on her. She
came out of the changing room and was grinning
ear to ear, prancing in front of the full length mir-
ror.
“Well I think you found the right pair,” said
the store owner.
“I don’t know why, I just feel so happy in
these, I don’t even want to take them off.” the straw-
berry blonde said, doing a quick spin.
“No problem, you can keep them on and
just pay for them at the register,” said the store
owner, “if there’s any problem with them, you can
return them later this week.”
The woman paid for the stockings and left
the store, not noticing the change in the store own-
er’s face: how she slowly started to regain a youthful
glow – how her hair seemed to look healthier – how
the sunspots on her hand began to fade away. The
store owner grabbed a hand mirror from under the
register desk, holding it up to her face.
“Beautiful,” she said.