Destiny, Dice, Soup Bone, Lipstick, Beauty

I never made a stew with a soup bone. Hell, I’d never made a stew, but this was a special occasion and I was determined to get it right. It was a dicey gamble for sure. The water boiled, I added the peppers, lamb, tomatoes, seasoning and let it simmer. It would cook for the next 6 hours.

Was it destruction or destiny that bought me to this place. Either. Both.

I never thought about a “wedding”. Or “the dress”. It just never occurred to me. I floated along and let the world happen to me. Grabbing things that felt right, discarding those that were too difficult or worrisome. Others thought this was flaw of character - I thought it made sense.

I pulled the yellowed satin dress from the trunk. A musty smell followed the bulky material. The dress would hang well in the wind and lose some of its odor and any unseen critters. Folded in the trunk and forgotten, its beauty was surprising. Hundreds of tiny, hand-sewn pearls created a lacy pattern down the front center of the dress. They continued around the hem of the dress and up the back of the 5 foot train to the waist in a 3 foot swath of pearl. It was a magnificent work of art. The luminescent pearls stood in stark contract to the yellowed white satin. The back plunged to the waist in a long vee with plain sleeves that came to a gentle arch over the top of each hand. A simple bodice front with a wide boat neckline finished the piece. I marveled at the hands that sewed the dress and wondered if they were still alive.

Hours later, pulling the dress from its leafless branch, I stepped into the waist and slipped my arms through the sleeves allowing the dress to naturally fall from the shoulders. Perfect and beautiful. It was spring and the gardenias had bloomed for the first time in 5 years. I pinned one behind my ear, bit my lips to mimic lipstick and made my way to the front porch where the sun was setting.

He was there. Smiling and robust. A specimen of a man. We looked each other in the eye. Whispered age old vows and kissed. As I turned to move into the house, he vanished. A short in the circuit. Damn. I would try again tomorrow, as each day was the same and the isolation complete since the fallout. I’ll eat the stew and float along…grabbing things that feel right.