Flash Fiction: The Vanity

Here is another flash fiction piece, in response to a prompt from Chuck Wendig, here on his blog. Hope you enjoy! Feedback is welcome.

“The Vanity”

“Who is fairest?”

You, my love, my heart. Your hair is silk, your lips are full, your heart is generous and warm. Your husband dotes on you. I can see it in the rubies on your neck, in the glow of your iPhone, in the perfume bottles that litter the table, each filled with an exquisite scent he’s blended for you and you alone.

“Who is fairest?”

You, my sweet. My living light. Your skin is milk and your eyes are bright, shining stars. Don’t mind that crinkle, I know it’s there from laughter, from giggling with that sweet child. How she adores you—I see that, as well. She will grow to be just like her mother.

“Who is fairest?”

You, my darling, as it has always been. Your smile sparkles more than the diamonds in your ears. The grey hairs add wisdom to your splendor. Don’t worry; your daughter will be just as beautiful, just as wise.

“Who is fairest now?”

You are more magnificent than ever, but the fairest now is she—your dear child, her lips as red and full as yours have been, her hair as black as night, and silken, too. Are you not proud? More than just her father gives her baubles. Her iPhone glimmers with constant praise; seven tones for seven suitors.

“Liar. Traitor. Fiend!”

I do not understand. Can you be happy with a gun, my goddess of beauty? Do the bullets reflect something I cannot see? I see that you love them more than me.They gleam where the lip-gloss smeared across the casing.  Your hands are shaking, dearest love. Don’t go, I can’t live without you. Please, don’t leave.

It’s been so long.

I cannot love you if you are not here.

Look at me.

Look at me.

LOOK AT ME!

Ah! And here is beauty at last, at last. Sweet child. When you smile, it’s like looking into sunlight. Even the scar becomes you—white against the snow of your bare shoulders, white beside the night-dark tresses your mother so admired.

“Am I pretty?”

Yes, my dove. My queen of hearts.

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7 thoughts on “Flash Fiction: The Vanity

  1. Awesome. I like the twist of telling the story from the mirrors point of view. It actually reminded of me of that poem by Sylvia Plath a little bit. I actually got chills toward the end.

  2. Pingback: Best of the Spidereen Frigate | The Spidereen Frigate

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