COLORLESS
My mirror has to be lying. I feel perky, chipper–fine but my eyes look a little rheumy. Maybe Grandma Jessie's mirror needs its back re-silvered. If I take it off the wall, I might as well have the brass flowers polished. Grandma insisted the flowers were gold and I believed her until I inherited it and learned the truth.
'Well, Kiddo,' I tell myself, 'you can't do it today. Take care of the more important stuff first.' What's more important than my treasure? Nothing. I go right to the Palm Frond's yellow pages. Under 'Mirrors' there are three ads, each for 'installed.' Mine was installed in what used to be Grandma's bedroom thirty years ago. Along with the mirror, I inherited her large walnut etagere that holds all of my heavy winter wear and a box of camphor flakes. I take one more glance at my face and am quite sure my eyes are droopy and rheumy. Little bags have come from nowhere.
My shopping plan must be altered slightly. I make my first stop Phyllis's Beauty Salon. She's a long time friend of mine, knowledgeable about hair, skin, and carries a full line of creams, lotions, make-up. After our warm hi's she cuckolds me in my 'no hit' zone when she asks if I've been ill. With no hesitation, I reply at once, 'No. Why?' and just as fast she asks me if I've been ill, adds, 'Your eyes don't look so good to me. You should try this new cream emulsion I'm carrying. I guarantee you will look better in a week.' If Phyllis is right, my twenty buck donation to her purse is a mere bag of shells.
With my hair restyled, I already feel better, skip stuff and go home to start using the elixir. Most likely I haven't used enough or maybe too much. In a whole week I see no improvement and return to Phyllis' to get my money back. Instead she gives me a free tube to try again.
It works for sure, but the wrong way. My rheumy eyes lighten and I can barely see in the mirror. The loud pumping of my heart scares me half to death. Any moment expecting to faint dead away, I reach for the phone and it falls on the floor. Thru a miracle I manage to dial 911. The loud noise of an ambulance stops at my door. I hear banging. The front window crashes and voices call to me. At the top of my lungs, I manage 'help', over and over, but am not heard. Heavy footsteps come towards me lying on the basement floor. The man in the white cap must be the captain. He puts his arms under my back and gently helps me to sit up.
'Lady, you're drunk as a skunk. Here's your ticket for calling us for less than a true emergency.' I look thru my rheumy eyes and can see 'Payment due in ten days or penalty doubles.' When everyone has left and I am comfortable in my bed, I gag and throw up all the booze.
It works for sure, but the wrong way. My rheumy eyes lighten and I can barely see in the mirror. The loud pumping of my heart scares me half to death. Any moment expecting to faint dead away, I reach for the phone and it falls on the floor. Thru a miracle I manage to dial 911. The loud noise of an ambulance stops at my door. I hear banging. The front window crashes and voices call to me. At the top of my lungs, I manage 'help', over and over, but am not heard. Heavy footsteps come towards me lying on the basement floor. The man in the white cap must be the captain. He puts his arms under my back and gently helps me to sit up.
'Lady, you're drunk as a skunk. Here's your ticket for calling us for less than a true emergency.' I look thru my rheumy eyes and can see 'Payment due in ten days or penalty doubles.' When everyone has left and I am comfortable in my bed, I gag and throw up all the booze.
In the morning I write a check to cover the warrant.
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