So I went upstairs and put on the darkest dress I owned - a blá-brown shirtwaister and some sensible chocolate pumps. I pulled back my hair and stared into the accusing mirror. Had I really aged that much, or was it my neglect of myself as a woman I was seeing?
My face was rounder, my features softened, but there were no harsh lines marring my forehead, no deep fissures of discontent bracketing my mouth, no crackling crow's feet at the corner of my still blue eyes.
I was still myself. What I needed was a good healthy dose of vanity, confidence, and flirtation...
I turned side-ways and winced. My boobs were definitely migrating south and would be forever arrested on that descent.
I was at that interesting point when I was too old to be young, and too young to be old. So I belonged to neither group, would be regarded with suspicion by the first, and with spiteful envy by the second.
I would be in that sex-less limbo forever - stripped of sexual allure without being imbued with the dignity of elderly wisdom.
I took an old lipstick from the seldom opened make-up box. I opened it and looked at that sticky bar.
Pale pink, like a minute anemic penis... I looked myself in the eye and raised my chin a notch.
I delved back into the drawer and found a gilded cylinder - an old present from May in a shade I'd nicknamed "Shameless Slut". It was a deep matt red, and I applied it to my pursed lips.
There! I pulled my hair back and clipped it up high, opened four buttons at the neckline of that shirtwaist giving myself a cleavage. On the dresser was a long string of tiger's eye stones - a birthday present from Frank - and I looped it around my neck.
Better, much better! Now I could go shopping without getting steered to the Grandma section!
I gave the mirror one juicy blood red kiss...
"The Kiss Of The Vampire..." I husked in a mock-sexy voice, and I winked at Greta Schultz - woman reborn.
MC
My face was rounder, my features softened, but there were no harsh lines marring my forehead, no deep fissures of discontent bracketing my mouth, no crackling crow's feet at the corner of my still blue eyes.
I was still myself. What I needed was a good healthy dose of vanity, confidence, and flirtation...
I turned side-ways and winced. My boobs were definitely migrating south and would be forever arrested on that descent.
I was at that interesting point when I was too old to be young, and too young to be old. So I belonged to neither group, would be regarded with suspicion by the first, and with spiteful envy by the second.
I would be in that sex-less limbo forever - stripped of sexual allure without being imbued with the dignity of elderly wisdom.
I took an old lipstick from the seldom opened make-up box. I opened it and looked at that sticky bar.
Pale pink, like a minute anemic penis... I looked myself in the eye and raised my chin a notch.
I delved back into the drawer and found a gilded cylinder - an old present from May in a shade I'd nicknamed "Shameless Slut". It was a deep matt red, and I applied it to my pursed lips.
There! I pulled my hair back and clipped it up high, opened four buttons at the neckline of that shirtwaist giving myself a cleavage. On the dresser was a long string of tiger's eye stones - a birthday present from Frank - and I looped it around my neck.
Better, much better! Now I could go shopping without getting steered to the Grandma section!
I gave the mirror one juicy blood red kiss...
"The Kiss Of The Vampire..." I husked in a mock-sexy voice, and I winked at Greta Schultz - woman reborn.
MC
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