Good morning. Today, I have to admit it was tempting to lurk by the coffee pot waiting for the first cup to be brewed. Last night I kept waking up, thinking there was something I had forgotten. I still have no idea what it was or if indeed I did forget anything. I might not have. I might only think I have. But I have a stack of crossed out to do lists that I’ll go through later today just to make sure. It is just a strange off balance sort of feeling like I forgot to do something important. As far as I know though, there isn’t currently anything important left undone at the moment. So I’ll try to let the feeling go and move on with the day. It will either come to me or I’ll get an unpleasant surprise later. Either way, there is no help for it now. So the morning prompt? Excellent.
I feel a bit more settled after that. It is amazing how easily the fifteen minute prompts settle my brain. And I think I actually like this story to boot. So it is sort of a win-win for me.
Thursday, December 9th: The mirror caught the sun and for a moment glowed as though made of molten gold.
The mirror caught the sun and for a moment glowed as though made of molten gold. Andrea stood thee, marveling at the light. It was such a small thing, but it sent a shiver of pleasure through her to see. Then the light shifted, the sun’s angle shifting ever so slightly and spoiling the illusion. For a second Andrea thought she saw a flash of something else in the mirror’s surface.
It had been a face. She shifted her stance looking into the hallway. There was no one there. She shook her head. It hadn’t been the face of one of the residence either. The house was large and she was the first to admit that she had yet to meet everyone on the grounds, but this far all of those she met were built along the same lines. They were a bit on the short side, so that even she seemed tall. All of them boasted round faces, with round cheeks reddened with good health and cheer. In addition all of them were fair of hair.
The face she thought she saw in the mirror had dark hair like hers and boasted the same sort of angles to his face that she had. In addition, he was tall, much taller than anyone she had seen here. Taller even than she was. Andrea sighed.
Perhaps it was wishful thinking. Until she came here, she didn’t realize how different she looked from those around her. She smiled at the thought. Well, she had realized she was different. When she a baby she was left with the Sisters in the small cloister at the edge of the woods. They were a reclusive order who tended to shield themselves from the view of others by wearing thick robes with heavy cowls that drooped down to cover their faces.
There was a belief among the sisters, set down with the founding of their order, that the physical presence diminished the focus of the words spoken, distracting listeners with the visual countenance. And so the sisters of the Order of the Shade gathered knowledge, shade it with those who needed it and kept their forms shrouded in thick cloth so that no one could discern their face or figures and become distracted from the knowledge that fell from their lips.
Andrea never really gave much thought to what they looked like and if she had would probably have thought that at least some of them looked a bit like her. She wasn’t one of them though and wasn’t allowed to join the order until she undertook a set ritual. She wasn’t even allowed to enact the ritual until she reached a certain level of knowledge and understanding. So she was always marked as different for moving about without the heavy cowl worn by those of the order.
It seemed less a distinction than her face and form compared with those here. Here not only was she nearly a head taller than many of the girls, and often at least a few inches taller than many of the boys of her age, but she tended towards thin ness and angles while they were all plump roundness. She was dark to their light as well. She had some respect as she came from the Order and the order was viewed with the utmost respect, not only by those in this house but by those in the rest of the village. Indeed many of the villagers made their living from the travelers who came to consult the sisters. But as friendly as they were, Andrea was different, and she felt the weight of their speculation. She took another glance at the mirror. There was no face, and probably never had been. It was only her wishful thinking that led her to believe there might have been. But now, even the gold faded from the glass and it reflected nothing more than the empty room beyond.
Ten til Midnight 