The Catalogue

Polly Morton

The party dresses drifted across her eyes from the pages of the catalogue and she was startled to see herself as in front of a mirror – her narrow shoulders, longish neck, skin tanned from summer’s sun, which with the rose shade of the dress material made her brown eyes darker.

She picked up the powder puff and gently patted her nose and chin, then lifted her skirts to help her hasten to the stairway.  There, looking down into the hall below, she saw her husband, smiling up at her, in his black tux – the same color as his hair and eyes.

The catalogue slipped to the floor with a thud and shattered her reverie.


September, 2007


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