She Pantomimed "Be That Over There"
a micro fiction
Carly.
Clara. Clary. Carla.
I kick off the shoes easily and hop over the bathroom threshold. God. I look like a construction cone. My orange hair flies to a whispered heap beside the toilet.
The tights are at my ankles when I unbutton the blouse. I try stepping out of the skirt, but end up felled like a Lorax-licked tree beside the wig. Fucking tights.
Groaning, I stand up again. The soap bar is blackish, but I jab my face with it anyway. Water splatters my breasts. I check the mirror, face dripping.
White face. Red nose. Freckles. Lips.
Clown.
Photographer: Thomas Hawk
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Thank you for reading! This is part of a micro fiction series where I take a photo and write a story inspired by it. Each story is 100 words.
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About the Creator
Mackenzie Davis
“When you are describing a shape, or sound, or tint, don’t state the matter plainly, but put it in a hint. And learn to look at all things with a sort of mental squint.” Lewis Carroll
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More stories from Mackenzie Davis and writers in Fiction and other communities.
The Night of White Umbrellas
This street often speaks. On the night of the white umbrellas, many voices made their way to me. But I did not listen, for their shadows swallowed them before I could. Street lamps became my saving grace. And I watched the voices. I never stopped until the dawn came and I could see them no more.
By Mackenzie Davis3 years ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
This felt quite liberating! Excellent job!
❤️📝💯😉