I can’t help it, hat boxes always grab my attention. The
roundness, different than any typical box, promises something unusual will be
inside. The colors and patterns decorating hat boxes are always special, bright
hues or mysterious subtle colors, often enhanced with endless vining designs.
My mother had several, five or six, and I made sure I stayed
close on afternoons she cleaned out her closet. It was on those days, tired
from cleaning, her defenses were down, and she let me open the tempting boxes. I
held my breath, gently lifting the exotic headpiece of iridescent blue-black
feathers. Or the red one with a cloud of fairy netting, or the leather bucket helmet.
If I held them carefully and asked in just the right quiet tone of voice, I was allowed to try on her special hats. I twisted in front of her wide dresser mirror, becoming a high magical priestess waving a hairbrush as my magical wand, or a faery princess trailing enchanting dust with each spin, or a viking commander leading a battle siege from my vantage high on a white steed.
I can hardly keep my fingers off of that green box—and the adventures waiting inside.
If I held them carefully and asked in just the right quiet tone of voice, I was allowed to try on her special hats. I twisted in front of her wide dresser mirror, becoming a high magical priestess waving a hairbrush as my magical wand, or a faery princess trailing enchanting dust with each spin, or a viking commander leading a battle siege from my vantage high on a white steed.
I can hardly keep my fingers off of that green box—and the adventures waiting inside.
Tea Leaf Tales is a series of original ten-sentence short stories by Marsha A. Moore, relating to photos/scenes that resonate with her.
0 comments:
Post a Comment