Inchoate:
Posted: October 27, 2010 Filed under: art Leave a comment »By: Me
The mirror is dusty. Alice places her cheek against the cold glass and looks down along its surface. Where, she wonders, does all this dust come from? It appears to hover above its reflection, suspended by the clear glass. Her finger carves a faint hello. She steps back, moving from side to side, watching the dust dance in her wake. Dusting day was Tuesday, Today’s only Friday. Windows stay closed… She runs through her weekly cleaning routine, inventorying surfaces and functions. The dust must come from somewhere. She chastises herself while returning to her morning ablution.
Where was I? she seeks to find to the train of thought from before the dusty distraction. The toothpaste oozes onto the brush. Departure by 8:05am to beat the trash truck is on schedule… assuming Daniel is finished with breakfast by now. She bites down on the toothbrush, fighting the urge to “encourage” him to be on time. The bed is made, the dishes are washed. She brushes harder. Coffee is ready to go. If I am not through the light on Clifton and Calhoun by 8:09 am then…
She spits, rinses and inspects. Then what? She stops, noticing the slightly wide-eyed expression. She checks her pulse. A little too fast. Her throat is tight. Her stomach too. Then what? She imagines arriving to the office at 8:32am. Her boss stands over her desk, arms akimbo, frowning, staring. Two minutes late. She blinks at her reflection, relaxing. I will get there.
She picks up last night’s wash cloth and wipes down the basin, shining the faucet. She sinks into her expectations for the day. Mail the bills, utilities are due next week. Must not be late. Check in with the production company. Will my assistant be on time? Filing must be complete.
In the living room, Daniel picks up his guitar and begins singing Alice’s favorite song. Alice winces, throws the cloth in the hamper and heads for the living room. “Are you ready?” speaking over the music. He nods, never losing the lyrics. Don’t fuss, don’t nag. She checks the clock so he sees. He closes his eyes and sings. His books aren’t packed, he’s not ready.
Alice returns to the mirror. She opens her makeup case, chooses the eyeshadow that matches her top. Begins applying foundation. Do I have everything for dinner? Meat is thawing in the fridge. I hate going to the store at 5pm. I get home at 5:20pm, change clothes, run for 1 hour. She smooths away the lines at her chin and jaw. Daniel is home at 6:30, hungry by 7pm. He’ll eat junk if dinner’s not ready. Will it be? Carefully, eyeliner is applied. If I don’t run, I will only have gone twice this week. I’m getting fat. My clothes won’t fit. Daniel is repeating the chorus in the living room. Playing for 7 minutes. I could go over lunch break. But I’ll only get 30 minutes of running in and then no lunch. I must go after work. She sets the eyeliner down, checking the clock. 28 minutes to go. She reaches for shadow and stops, catching her reflection. Messy eyebrows. She straightens them. Furrowed. She relaxes her face. I’ll run tonight, Daniel will be fine. Probably won’t even notice. Daniel finishes the song. Alice leans into the living room. He still sits atop the stool, guitar in hand, basking in the hanging notes.
She runs into the kitchen, grabs the lunches that she made the night before out of the fridge and drops them into their respective bags. Heading back to her mirror, she picks up her coffee mug and sips. I wish I could stay home all day, listen to Daniel’s music. Will he pass the bar next summer? Will he find a good job? She picks up her brushes and pushes the dark shade into the crease above her eye. What will I do next year? Something I love. I cannot wait to do something I love. She switches eyes. That’s ridiculous. Why wait? I am doing something I love. Am I happy? She runs again through the day that awaits her at the office. She sighs. Daniel passes the door on his way to the kitchen, smiling at her routine. The glimpse in the mirror makes Alice smile too. Yes, I’m here with him. We are making a life. We are happy.
She dabs a lighter shade into the corners of her eyes. Stepping back, she observes. Two and a half years in law school, after moving across the country. We have everything we need. We may start a family. She projects her future, the choices ahead and those made in the past. Daniel is in the kitchen pouring a second cup. “I’ll take some more.” He brings in the pot and cream. She settles a curl of hair back on his head.
She checks her nails and sips her coffee. Siting on the edge of the edge of the bed, she pulls on her stockings. No regrets. She sits up, sips her coffee. Enjoying it. Daniel knows how much cream she likes. Daniel is packing his bag in the office.
She returns to the mirror, picking up the powder compact. She pats it onto her face. Leaning in close she checks the texture of her skin. She watches as the tiny particles of powder float away from her, settling on the mirror.
