This week, we were asked to don the red dress and find a lost article of clothing in the back of a drawer or closet. We were supposed to write a story letting everyone know how the item was found, what it was, and why it’s was so meaningful to us or our character.
The feedback I received from my last TRDC post, Pleasure and pain, was interesting and informative, to say the least. It inspired a new writing project that I will be working on, a little on my own and a little from the prompts that I can tie in during the weekly Red Dress Club link ups.
If you are curious, I will continue to use ‘Pleasure and pain’ until I can find a suitable name, so look for that name in the TRDC category if you want to read any particular piece.
I hope you enjoy this piece and as always, I look forward to your comments and critiques!
Alanis looked up from the sink. The image in the mirror stared back, puffy eyed and disheveled. She had nearly cried herself out completely.
“You are so stupid. How could you have let him go? Stupid…” She trailed off.
It had been a month and a half since she threw the vase at him. In addition to shattering the picture window in the foyer, she had inadvertently broken the final straw that caused their break up. The break up that, in turn, caused a never-ending torrent of emotional, self-deprecating behavior that kept her locked in her suburban ranch house, wallowing in her own self-pity.
She hadn’t cleaned. She barely ate. The four outfits that had once been reserved specifically for her time had become daily wear on rotation. After a month of self-torment, she finally stopped feeling sorry for herself long enough to take a good, hard look in the mirror. When she realized that she could count the number of baths she had taken in the last month almost on one hand, her stomach turned.
“This shit has to stop. You have to stop this. You have to stop this now!”
Alanis splashed cold water on her face. The jolt made her stomach tense up, then relax again. After drying her face and discarding the hand towel onto the mounding pile of laundry on the bedroom floor, she looked around, half in disbelief.
“Ugh. You have turned into a complete slob.” She said under her breath. “Well, let’s go Miss Piggy. This house obviously isn’t going to clean itself.”
She removed her white tee and shimmied out of her cut off sweatpants and panties. As she grabbed the last shirt in the dresser drawer, she paused.
His favorite shirt.
She hated this shirt. It was old and nearly threadbare; the screened logo rendered indiscernible after years of wash and wear. She had questioned him in the past about why he insisted on keeping it, and tossed it in the garbage can. Of course, he defended the shirt’s honor and touted it’s comfortableness while plucking it back out of the can.
Alanis rubbed the flimsy material between her thumb and forefinger. She raised the shirt to her face, drawing in a deep whiff. She could almost smell him—Truth… one of her favorite scents. Of course, it would have been, considering that she insisted on choosing his cologne. She insisted on a lot of things. He never complained; then again, he didn’t have to. She did enough complaining for the both of them.
She couldn’t see it anymore. She had been demanding and bossy for as long as she could remember. She knew when she was doing it, at least in public, from his reactions. His faintly hidden embarrassment never actually stopped her from finishing what she had to say, but she was aware of its effect on him. She swore to herself that she would stop being like that. The thought was always dismissed just as casually.
She missed him so much it hurt.
“Stupid.” She said again as she pulled the shirt down over her head.