Write...Edit...Publish, Mirror, mirror.

Time to indulge in a short flash fiction story in the blog hop with Write…Edit…Publish, a fabulous once monthly challenge created by my wonderful Aussie friend, Denise Covey. To participate or to read other wonderful stories go here.

The challenge this month is to write a story in 1,000 words or less. The topic is Changing Faces.  

Mirror, mirror.

Still half asleep I rinsed off the scrub I’d used to wash my face and reached for the towel. Once dry I blinked at my reflection and turned to see if someone was behind me. No one. I gazed with disbelief at the woman staring back at me. Unbelievable.  My red hair was gone and in its place were black locks.  In fact, nothing about me was the same. Instead, I looked like that bimbo on that reality T.V. show. You know the one. Gorgeous, yes, but she had a trashy mouth and boobs the size of watermelons. Ugh!

Staring down at my enormous chest I knew none of my bras would fit. Could I even get my clothes on?

I crept out of the bathroom to my bedroom and shut the door. How did this happen? Okay, I had a wart on my chin. Mom believed in holistic medicine and herbal remedies. This wasn’t the first time she’d gone to the Wiccan at the end of the block for a remedy. The instructions said I should take one teaspoon before bed. But I figured, if one teaspoon would remove the wart, the whole bottle should get rid of all my imperfections, not turn me into a reality T.V. look-a-like. What was I going to do now?

I peeled my legs into my blue jeans and grabbed my brown hoodie. The zipper wouldn’t go over my gigantic breast. I reached for my pull over navy hoodie and struggled until I managed to get it to my midriff. I thought I was going to rip my pants when I leaned over to tie my shoe laces. The waist was too small and the hips too tight. Done, I tiptoed from my room and exited the back door. Running around the house I made the mall that was three blocks away. Not my favorite shopping destination but hay, I had to get something fast.

Fortunately, despite my new body my personal taste in clothes hadn’t changed. Within half an hour I had new blue jeans, undies, bra and a red hoodie. Yeah, I’m a little obsessed with hoodies but I needed to pull up a hood and hide my newly dark hair.

I knew my next destination, the neighborhood Wiccan. Her house was five houses from mine and painted forest green. She grew herbs in a raised bed by the front door. The scent was sweet and spicy all at the same time. I rang her bell and it tolled the notes of ‘Monster Bash’. Clever.

Ms. Frederick opened the door. “Oh my,” she said. “I never miss a single show.”

“It’s me, Penelope Sanders,” I said. “My mom got the wart remedy from you yesterday and I woke up like this.”

Disbelief colored Ms. Frederick’s green eyes amber. Her mouth opened, then shut and she bit her lips before at last speaking. “Come in Penelope.”

Her house smelled of sandalwood incense and chocolate chip cookies. I wrinkled my nose and followed her to the dining room table.

“Please sit,” she said and waddled off to the kitchen. When she returned she had a plate of cookies and put them down along with a glass of milk in front of me. How old did she think I was? I indulged anyway since I hadn’t eaten yet.

“Did you follow my instructions?” Ms. Frederick asked.

“Well,” I said, swallowing my half eaten bite quickly. “Not exactly.”

“Tell me.”

“I just figured that if one teaspoon could get rid of a wart, the whole bottle would clear up my acne and maybe even get rid of the scar where they removed my appendix. You see, I have a bikini I can’t wear because of it and---“

“The whole bottle! Oh my, oh dear.” Ms. Frederick stood and paced on the other side of the table. “Oh dear.” She wrung her hands and glanced in my direction several times. “Oh no.”

“You can fix this, right?”

She stopped, stared at me for a moment and then sat. “I have no idea, this has never happened before. It might be permanent.”

“But why do I look like this?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I was watching the show, ‘Late Night with the Marshalls' when I made the potion.’”

“Great.” My turn to pace. The sandalwood incense had deposited so much smoke in the house that I coughed.

“I don’t like that chick and I don’t want to look like her.” I put my hands on my trim waist, another side effect that I had to admit was pretty awesome.

“I’m sorry Penelope, I’ll try to come up with a remedy but in the meantime, perhaps you could earn some money impersonating Ms. Marshall.”

“You can’t be serious.” I marched from the room and slammed the front door shut. What would mom do when she saw me? I hesitated before opening the front door.

“Who are you?” Mom asked.

At that moment I was really glad my voice hadn’t changed. “It’s me Mom, the wart stuff had a side effect.”

Her mouth opened before she sat down and cried. I joined her.

*

High School was hard after my change, but I survived and now I’d come to terms with my new appearance. One thing Ms. Frederick was right about was the money I could make impersonating Ms. Bimbo Neurotic Marshall. After five years, no remedy in sight, I owned my own home and drove a great little sports car. Life is good.

Word count: 920

I hope you enjoyed my little story. Please head over and read the other fabulous tales of Changing Faces at Write…Edit…Publish.

Next month is….spooky Halloween. Time for a ghost story. I encourage you to join us.

Nancy








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