10/14/10: Way to shame me into updating again by commenting, people who comment! (Seriously, though, hi, welcome, and pull up one of the splintery old orange crates that we use for seating 'round these parts seein' as we can't afford no fancy chairs.)

The rules from
here still apply.

Thursday, December 28, 2006

By Just Looking

After a few moments' thought, Rachel selected the ragged black blouse hanging towards the back of her closet. A bit of rummaging produced the appropriate gloves, and here was the skirt. Last of all came the huge square-toed boots on her feet and the half-hour or so of careful makeup work on her face.

Eventually she stepped out into the morning sunlight, shading her eyes with one hand as she locked her door with the other. She set out towards the coffee shop at an easy lope. It was far enough that she sometimes drove, but today she was looking forward to the walk.

She naturally drew some attention from passing motorists, and from the other pedestrians on the street. Certainly that was the whole point of her attire. Her hair, dyed black with dark red streaks, framed a naturally pale face that had been powdered to a near-deathly white. Dark makeup described her eyes and lips. Long black fishnet gloves stretched from her hands, up her arms, and disappeared beneath the sleeves of her top, which appeared to have been made of tattered scraps of black and maroon silk. A long, flowing black skirt nearly completed the ensemble; all that was left to consider were the massive black boots, laced with wire, that she had shod herself in.

She gave a bright smile to everyone she passed, and occasionally added in a wave. By the time she reached the coffee shop, it was nine o'clock, the place was just opening, and she had succeeded in confusing any number of people.

The owner looked up as she came in. "Hi, Rachel! The usual?"

"Hey, Mike," she replied cheerfully, hopping onto a stool at the counter. "Yes, please! Only make it extra spooky," she added in a deep voice, wiggling her fingers for emphasis.

Mike laughed as he readied her drink. "I noticed you decided to be a goth today," he said over his shoulder. "Bored of being an indie kid?"

"I think people were starting to get used to it." She grabbed a straw from the counter, unwrapped it, and then peered through it at her surroundings. "There's no point in wearing a costume if everyone's used to it."

"Ah, of course." He set the drink down in front of her. "I noticed you walked here, too. Gave people plenty of chance to notice you?"

Rachel nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes," she answered. "There are now several absolute strangers who think they know everything about me, by just looking at me dressed like this." She took a sip of her drink and then grinned. "And they don't even care about whether they're right or not."

"Those fools," Mike deadpanned.


1 comment:

gh said...

Just stopping by for a refill. Good stuff. And I like your response to Mr. Dr. Professor Man: some things are just too fascinating to be offensive.