Ever since Phil Collins came into my life, this song title has fascinated me. So here I am, borrowing from @nomadwanderer’s lens… She takes the pictures, i tell the story… Let’s see where this takes us…
Project Picture Stories: 1
She clicked the lock open before walking into her room. Something felt different about the room. She laid her bags down on the ornate love seat and took off her sunglasses with her diamonds studded fingers. She carefully folded them and walked over to her dresser where she placed them… She let her fingers run across the smooth edges of the antique dresser… She smiled as she looked at her make-up, perfumes and jewellery neatly lined up… And in the corner was a small photo. The only woman in this world, she wished she could be.
She glanced at the photo and then at the mirror. She looked similar to the woman in the photo and yet so different. Age had left its marks on the corners of her mouth and eyes, but there was a sparkle in the eyes that she had protected from the cruel hands of age. She looked at the photograph again.
The woman wore black against a black background, making her seem like a floating body.
She looked at the mirror. She was wearing a similar black boat necked dress. But she was missing the beautiful neck piece. She touched her bare neck…
The bare neck was a reminder…
She made her way across to the bed as she hugged herself. The room was a little cold… ‘The heating must be off,’ she thought to herself. She sat down on her bed and hugged herself as she let out a wistful sigh. She hated thinking of the past, but then…
Suddenly something on the table by the window caught her eye. She looked shocked, bewildered and happy at the same time. She walked over to the table, too afraid to touch it. She didn’t want it to disappear. Her hand almost went up to the necklace that lay staring at her. Her diamonds and sapphires seemed pale against the rich green. The green, locked away from the clutches of time, devoid of any marks of age… The green that had adorned her neck when it was smooth like porcelain, begged to be worn… She pulled her hand back and touched her bare neck again… There were wrinkles. Time had touched her, but her memories- they were just as fresh as the green. Then she saw the neatly folded note below the necklace. And she knew…
@nomadwanderer’s picture came from: http://www.flickr.com/photos/kaurwakee/4218839653/
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