prompt picture credit to Virginia Frances Sterret. Jane Dougherty’smicrofiction challenge #27 to join in or read pressherelink andpost your story by next Thursday 22nd December.
Melinda often escaped to the folly, where she would wear her mothers gown, paint her delicate lips, smear her smooth cheeks with rouge and ink her brows. She would loose her hair from its restricted braids and play makebelieve. She’d call her ghostly friends from the recess of her mind to pamper and preen; laying out scenarios thought up in a dream. But as daylight twinkled through the stained glass and threw colours in the space she knew to not be caught. Melinda would creep back into her other life before she was missed. One last twirl one last sway around the mosaic floors then as quiet as the running stream she’d lock the folly doors.
Face scrubbedand her dress folded neatly away…
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