The Mirror
She stares into her mirror, pallor defining her as with increasing unease she places the pearls about her neck and flips the gauzy veil over her face.
She pats down her starched dress her hand catching in one of the creases, caught on her ring, she unhooks then lifts the diamond clad hand to her face. Its rainbow reflecting colours, slightly obscured by the thin fabric, a slight smile for herself only as she remembered the day he gave it to her all in a blue velveteen box tied with a pearl ribbon, he never did the one knee thing, he just smiled and said ‘do you want to make a go if it?’
No sweeping sentimentality, just him, He was just perfect.
The smile framed itself with glittering tears under the thin veil.
It was almost time, the car would be here soon. He would be here soon.
She heard a soft tapping at the door, in stepped her daughter, she had his eyes.
“Mam are you alright? Dad’s here, the flowers look nice.”
She squeezed her Daughter’s hand;
" He loved you all so much I’m glad you could all come.” Her voice broke.
As she followed her daughter, she caught a glimpse of the black figure walking past, on her hands a diamond ring and lines no creams could erase.
The unease returned. Next it would be her.