Monday, February 05, 2007

Session Two: Character Building

Assignment by Meredith


Gina emerged from her walk-in closet, wearing slim black Capri pants and a pink twinset, and carrying two pairs of black flats. She put them on the floor, and slid her right foot into a mule with a low heel, and her left into an open-toed sandal with a kitten heel. As she gazed at her feet in the full-length mirror, she noticed that the left big toe of her French pedicure was chipping at the edge. She took the sandal off her left foot decisively, and put the second mule on. She turned back to the sink, looking at her glossy, shoulder length hair critically; one side always took the curling iron better than the other did, and the bob was slightly uneven as a result. Checking her watch as she reached for on switch, she pulled her hand back and picked up a black elastic instead. She didn’t have time to re-do her hair if she wanted to be on time, and a plain ponytail was an acceptable exchange for punctuality. She examined her smile in the mirror, not really expecting to find any leftover bits of breakfast, while measuring the decline of the latest whitening treatment on her front teeth. She applied a coat of beige-pink lipstick, adjusted the set of the sweater on her shoulders, and walked into her bedroom. Once she finished moving the color-coded pouches from last night’s purse to today’s plain black bag, she walked down the stairs to the garage, her sunglasses carefully planted on her head.


Emma glanced at the wall clock as she passed through the doorway to the bathroom; it said 7:45, but that really meant it was 6:45. She needed to be in her car, backing out of the garage right now, to be on time; so every minute she spent getting ready was now a minute late. She was late already; but clearly she couldn’t leave because she wasn’t wearing pants, and she had not yet combed her hair. She didn’t wash her hair every day as it was, and sometime she arrived at the office without having actually brushed it. Thank the Lord for whoever decided bed head was sexy; sexy wasn’t really appropriate for work, but since she couldn’t style it ‘sexy’ anyway, it fell somewhere short. She couldn’t style hair to save herself, and it was obvious; she needed a perfect cut that only had to be combed out and left alone. Well, she amended, not perfect as such, more self-sufficient enough to look nice without ‘product’, masterful blow-drying, or any kind of guidance, really. 7:55, which was really 6:55; Emma put her wide-toothed comb into her purse, put on her black boots, and some beige pants. Her 10-second assessment in the mirror showed her tangled, flaming red hair over a flushed, makeup-less face, and dried toothpaste on her lips. She ran out the bedroom door down the stairs to the garage; she had some yogurt in the refrigerator at work for breakfast.


Do you recognize any of these people? :)

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