With a critical eye she stood in front of the mirror, studying all angles, surveying the outcome of hours of preparation.
Adjusting the sunset red shawl softly framing her face, its length wrapping around her shoulders and ending at the middle of her back, an assortment of bangles underscored the gesture. Substituting the gold hoop adorning her left ear for a much larger one, intricate patterns of shapes and colors drew attention to hennaed hands.
Satisfied, she smiled, the effect eliciting a twinkle in her eyes no amount of glamour paint could ever hope to replicate.
Under the shawl she had paired a canary yellow dress, with comfortable, fawn brown, knee high boots. Then striking a pose-- arms akimbo, and with her right hip cocked to the side for show--, she laughed.
Tonight was the Costume Ball and everyone she knew was planning on attending. Her friends-- although lately she'd begun to feel a distancing change in their once effortless camaraderie--had suggested going together as part of a theme. But she had felt the inexplicable pull to decline, opting instead to embody a theme of one.
In the past, she would have fought the pull to set out on her own. In fact, upon hearing her decision, even her own mother -- a woman who kept her own counsel and thus, often appeared mysterious to her only daughter--had softly remarked, "You've begun to accept yourself."
Maybe, she mused, her eyes reestablishing a connection with those of her mirrored self. Maybe I'm the one that's changing and not them.
It had been a fortnight since they last spoke on the subject of the ball, and ever since she had respectfully declined their offer, their gatherings had increasingly begun to feel isolating, and uncomfortable. Deciding to take steps better aligned with her peace of mind, she begged off further get togethers citing an increase in her responsibilities and a desire to spend time preparing for the ball.
The last she had heard, they were attending as different fairy tale princesses. And though some would think the choice rather unimaginative, she knew them to be a creative lot and knew their costumes would be inspiration personified. But this night, she too, would allow herself to shine, accepting her own seat at lady Inspiration's table.
She had been practicing and was now ready to let others in on her long held secret.