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Silk

Note:  This is an exercise from the oneword.com site.  The word was silk.  After the one minute, I had written 52 words.  I liked where it was going so I kept working on it and am sharing it here.

Silk.  The feel of it against her skin.  So smooth.  So cool.  So elegant.  That’s what she felt as she pulled her pale pink silk slip over her head.  It was so pretty.  The palest of pink with tiny roses embroidered around the neckline.  Too bad no one would ever see it.  It was made to be seen but she knew no one ever would.  She knew now, at the age of 39 that she was destined to be alone, single, lonely.

As she sat at her vanity table and brushed her long dark hair, she wiped at a tear in the corner of her right eye.  She checked her lipstick, pinched her cheeks and put on a happy face.  Just because she was not all that happy didn’t mean she had to make others miserable.  She would walk into that wedding reception with her head held high and a smile to brighten the darkest of rooms.  She would greet her friends.  Yes, that’s what they called themselves, her friends.  There were three of them and each was now married to a man that she had been interested in, a man that had shown interest in her.  But of course, that had been before her friends had lured them away.  She was too shy.  That’s who she had always been.  She couldn’t change.   That’s who she was.  She didn’t want to change.  She didn’t want someone that made her change.  And so she remained alone.

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