Photograph by François Dubeau
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Her heart was excited today, and she fought off her body's exhilaration. She didn't want to be sweating too much. This was the day her life would begin.
She sat in front of the mirror, the women around her fussing away with her hair and make-up. She never fussed so much over herself. She wouldn't have aloud so much fussing except for today. Today she accepted with open arms. Because today was special. It made her mom feel better anyway to fuss.
The others busily were putting in earrings, applying mascara and lipstick, rouge. But she felt like she didn't need rouge. She felt like her heart's glow would give her face enough color. A small smile played on her lips and her hands shook as she looked down at her nails, which another woman was polishing in a lovely french manicure.
"Relax, Amber. Your fingers are so jittery! I really don't want to mess this up!" This was her best friend, Jen.
Jen had been there for her entire life. It felt like a bittersweet time between them. A matter of saying goodbye in a way...parting ways on how they had done every other thing in life together. In this, Amber was going on alone.
Jen met with Amber's gaze then for a moment. In an instant they communicated in perfect understanding. Although life was going on in different directions, they would always remain the best of friends. Amber fought back the tears now. They wouldn't help with her jitters.
The time seemed to fly by before she knew it. Suddenly she was standing in front of the screen door, looking out toward the car that would take her to the church. Her heart started to pound more now. Outside waited her destiny.
The others, in their pink dresses, helped her cross the threshold. They held the door open, lifted her white train, and held her sleek veil.
And she stepped through, on her way to meet it. Her destiny.
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Sighing, chin in palm,
Wistfully daydreaming of
coming destiny...
Outside waited our destiny. Spike pulled me towards his tree. He loved being outside on a beautiful summer day. He promptly laid down in the shade and went to sleep.
She shuffled slowly in her houseshoes, the scritchy scratchy sound of her feet echoing off the walls. She was certainly in no hurry today, even though she was on her way to a better place.
Outside waited her destiny. She was aware of the magnitude of this day. She wanted to enjoy it like it was her last day on this earth, but she was reluctant to proceed.
She was not alone this morning. Was it morning? The sun had yet to rise. She stole sideways glances at her companions. They were quiet, and looked quiet somber, alone in their thoughts. They seemed to not want to look at her - she wanted to know what they were thinking, how they came to be with her today.
But it was only the sound of them walking the hallway that she heard.
At the end of the hallway, she could see light. Yes, it was morning. The wire mesh between the panes of glass on the door made her feel like she had the eyes of a fly (she remembered that from her grade school Science class; she often wanted to spend a day with eyes like that).
She preferred the blurry quality of the car and the grass she saw - she hated getting her first pair of glasses, they made things look so stark and ugly. She liked the feathered edges better.
She shuffled through the door, and felt the sun hit her face. It made her forget the metallic clanking she heard when she walked. She inhaled deeply; the air smelled like freshly mown grass. The dew glistened on the lawn beside the execution chamber. Today was the day, destiny (they called it justice) would be served.
In an hour, she'd be dead.
Her heart was excited today, and she fought off her body's exhilaration. She didn't want to be sweating too much. This was the day her life would begin.
She sat in front of the mirror, the women around her fussing away with her hair and make-up. She never fussed so much over herself. She wouldn't have aloud so much fussing except for today. Today she accepted with open arms. Because today was special. It made her mom feel better anyway to fuss.
The others busily were putting in earrings, applying mascara and lipstick, rouge. But she felt like she didn't need rouge. She felt like her heart's glow would give her face enough color. A small smile played on her lips and her hands shook as she looked down at her nails, which another woman was polishing in a lovely french manicure.
"Relax, Amber. Your fingers are so jittery! I really don't want to mess this up!" This was her best friend, Jen.
Jen had been there for her entire life. It felt like a bittersweet time between them. A matter of saying goodbye in a way...parting ways on how they had done every other thing in life together. In this, Amber was going on alone.
Jen met with Amber's gaze then for a moment. In an instant they communicated in perfect understanding. Although life was going on in different directions, they would always remain the best of friends. Amber fought back the tears now. They wouldn't help with her jitters.
The time seemed to fly by before she knew it. Suddenly she was standing in front of the screen door, looking out toward the car that would take her to the church. Her heart started to pound more now. Outside waited her destiny.
The others, in their pink dresses, helped her cross the threshold. They held the door open, lifted her white train, and held her sleek veil.
And she stepped through, on her way to meet it. Her destiny.
Tweety had successfully convinced the ferret to unlock the door to his cage. The ferret, filled with shame, ran off and curled into a little ball inside the Master's sock drawer. Never mind...no time for regrets. Phase One was complete; Phase Two was underway. Besides, the ferret had his mozzarella stick. Fair payment for the brief use of his nimble, traitorous paws.
Staring out the screen door, Tweety eyed his freedom: The Big Sky. He checked his wings. Yes, the feathers had regrown and he was capable of flight. Excellent.
Fluffy should be coming by any moment to claw the door open in exchange for a bag of catnip. No one asked where Tweety got his stuff. No one wanted to know. Well, maybe some did, but they were too afraid to ask.
Tweety eyed the car parked in the driveway. There would be a well-timed poo on his way out. Oh yes, there would. Sweet revenge. Mostly for naming him Tweety...how cliche.
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