Hello, my name is Helen by Colleen Fahey
Photo: “Walking up a small hill” 12x6/ oil on panel. Used by permission of the artist http://lisaraewinant.blogspot.com
The beautiful girl was destined for greatness. She gazed at herself in the mirror and loved what she saw. But the question, of course, was “was he going to like what he saw” she could never tell that answer because she had never seen the man before. She knew not what his life was like, she knew not what thoughts flew within the confides of his mind, and she knew not what so delicately tantalized the depths of his mind.
Still, she went on guessing. She kept on looking through herself in the mirror to find out if she could impress him enough to gain his trust, to gain his love. She has so long desired the love of someone wonderful in her life. She fights for it every day. Each man who passes, she places the extra glance towards him to see if she can receive the simplicity or a complicated smile.
In her room she is now, a blind date awaits. Dress after dress crosses over her neatly fixed hair. The woman simply cannot decide which of her most wonderful outfits will so impress this man. One dress turned into ten dresses which turned into one hundred dresses. The indecisiveness of her heart was hard to tame. At the end of it all, the woman picked her thirty seven favorite dresses and somehow, someway fit them all over her petite delicate body.
She walked the long nervous walk all the way to the restaurant where the two newly love birds were to meet. The woman’s heart was racing, her skin went pale, and butterflies flapped inside her belly as if they were trying to escape her fear. Step after step the woman continued on her way. What will he look like she said, what shall I say when I arrive? She practiced over and over again, hello my name is, hello my name is… hello my name is. The practice began to make her nervousness subside; the butterflies began to settle themselves in a comfortable position. The skin however, would never return to its normal state. The man was not there at the restaurant. She walked up the hill to go home. There was no chance for love this night, there was no chance for happiness, and there was no chance to use the phrase which she had practiced hundreds of times. Hello, my name is Helen.
No comments:
Post a Comment