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Day #51: Plucked from Reality

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The Story:

Jolie threw her shawl over her hunched shoulders and hobbled down the stairs. She smiled nostalgically at the photos hanging on the wall as she made her way down to the first floor of her home. “Oh, to be young again,” she sighed. Jolie walked into her kitchen to make herself some breakfast. Jolie took a look in her pantry and then her fridge before finally settling on a bowl of All-Bran cereal and skim milk. “Wish I had some prunes,” Jolie mumbled as she sprinkled a few fresh blueberries on top of her morning meal. “Guess I better go down to the market today… pick some up,” she continued as she munched on her fibrous breakfast.

Finishing her breakfast, Jolie walked her empty bowl to the sink, rinsing it before placing it in the dishwasher. “I still can’t figure how this contraption works,” She gave the machine a skeptical look, “now what was I going to do?” she scrunched her forehead and scratched her head, trying to remember. “I swear, I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached,” she grumbled, looking around the kitchen hoping something would jog her memory. Shrugging her shoulders, Jolie decided she might as well continue on with her day, it would come to her eventually. Rustling through her hallway closet, Jolie finally located her half-finished cross-stich and basket of thread and needles. Gathering it up, she walked to the front of her house and out onto the front porch. Pulling her shawl tighter, Jolie settled into one of the wicker rocking chairs and begin to stitch. “Phooey!” Jolie examined her pricked finger before popping it into her mouth. “My eyes ain’t what they used to be, I guess,” she said sadly. Placing her cross-stich in her lap Jolie slowly rocked and watched a few neighborhood kids play in the park across the street. She thought about her own childhood, all those years ago. Where had the time gone? Soon, Jolie’s eyes began to grow heavy, and in a few minutes she was sound asleep.


The sound of her name nudged Jolie slowly awake. “Ted? Is that you? Come closer, sweetheart, I can barely see you,” Jolie smiled as the familiar face of her long-time love came into focus. “Come and sit a spell, Ted. Keep this old gal company,” she said as she patted the seat of the adjacent rocking chair.

“Don’t you think you’re getting a little carried away with all this?” Ted said, putting his hands on his hips. “Why, whatever do you mean, Pa?” Jolie knitted her brow.

“Pa? Seriously?” Ted closed his eyes and shook his head. “Ok, Jolie. This has gone on long enough, you need to snap out of it already,” Ted calmly said as he sat down next to his girlfriend.

Jolie looked away and leaned back into her chair. “Ted, be a dear and fetch me the afghan from the settee inside, I feel a slight chill,” she said without opening her eyes.

“No.” Ted said defiantly.

“No?” Jolie opened her eyes and scowled at Ted.

“That’s right, no. I have played this game with you long enough. I’ve allowed it, thinking it was harmless, but for the love of St. Pete, Jolie, it’s been a month! I can’t take any more of this… I want my girlfriend back!” Ted almost pleaded.

“But…” Jolie stammered.

“But nothing,” Ted interrupted, “You’ve been putzing around this house for the last few weeks, talking like you’re 90 years old, complaining about phantom ailments and dressing like your grandmother. It’s time you got over all this. Now I know you are upset, I know this feels like a milestone in your life, but sweetie… it’s really not that big of a deal,” he pulled Jolie into his lap and tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

“It’s just one silly little white hair,” Ted smiled and kissed his beautiful thirty-year-old girlfriend lightly on the forehead.

The infamous hair


The Not So Fantastic Reality:

The above story was inspired by the following tidbits I encountered today:

ONE:      I discovered my first white hair today. There it was, standing straight up on the top of my head, proud as can be. Confession time… I dye my hair. Some of you may know this, but I was born a natural blonde and until about two years ago I went red. I tell you this because I find it quite exceptional that this rogue hair managed to avoid my most recent dye job and had the audacity to ‘hide’ in plain sight. No worries though, I plucked that little sucker and everything is right again in the world.  

Blonde me... nevermind those other gentleman, that's another story.

Love & Squirrels.


About samshine20

Writing a fictious story based on my day's events... every day. Apparently this is how I celebrate turning 30. That's me! ...just a girl with dream. And a blog.

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