Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Wednesday - My Art - Fantasy, Sci-fi, and Horror - The collection



The Collection
By Marcia A. Borell


With trembling hands she picked up the ornate antique magnifying glass. She was surprised to see her reflection in the glass and how much younger she looked. It took her back to the first time she wore it. Long black bias cut velvet dress, a gardenia in her hair, and the silver magnifying glass dangling between her breasts from its long heavy silver chain. In her prime she would have been referred to as a looker, that memory made her smile.

She picked up the goldfish pendant, delicate yellow, orange with a bit of red blown glass. It was a gift from her Aunt and would need much care. She remembered how carefully she would hook the clasp making sure that the glass fish would be secure. As she put it back in the box on the table she caught yet another look of a much younger self in the glass. Yes, nineteen, she wore it on her first date with the young man that would become her husband.

She caught another glimpse of herself in the glass. She was a very serious nine year old. She had just opened up a small box containing a silver elephant. A gift from her much traveled Grandmama. It was something that she had always treasured and had worn as she traveled the world.

Yes, the snake pin, it had always stood for resolving and healing issues. Today transformation was the gift of this pin. She carefully put it in its box and attached the last name tag. All of her collection was now boxed and labeled. She watched as the shadow of a cat moved along the wall. It was time.

She rested her head back on the chair and could feel the warm breath of the cat she had lost when she was ten. He began to purr and rub his cheek on her chin. She could hear the thump of a tail as her Brittany spaniel returned as a young pup and jumped up on her lap. More purrs, more wagging tales, the sound of wings surrounded her, on her shoulder, on her lap, and under her feet wrapping her in love.


The nurse put down her chart and took her pulse surprised by the small green feather in her hand and an odd assortment of what looked like cat or dog hair on her gown. The nurse saw the small box with her name on it. She bent down and kissed the top of her head. Tears she never shed were running down her cheeks. She patted the dear old woman's hand. She would miss her stories and her love of life. She paused at the door taking in for one last time the sense of peace, joy, and laughter that lingered in the room.