The Sun had finally dropped low enough in the sky that soft shadows were stealing along the street. I rolled out of bed, jerked the curlers from my hair and poked about looking for my very best bra. The old body didn’t look like it used to admittedly, I just needed a little “pick me up and separate”.Muttering as I stumbled about tripping over the colorful collection of cloths, books, and coffee cups that never really made it to their respective places I managed to stub a toe and create a few new words for Websters Dictionary of Slang. Not in the mood to get on my hands and knees to check under the bed I finally I dug out my second best bra and with a pat and a shake I got everything in its place, sort of…. A quick yank and from the depths of the wardrobe the traditional gown I always wore on this particular night limped into view. Struggling and twisting I finally squirmed into its faded elegance. Darn thing must have shrunk in the wash, or perhaps I had managed to put on a few pounds.Glancing towards the mirror I gave a coy shake of my head, and the curls fell into place, hmms that Dollar Store hair dye wasn’t so bad, a bit garish to some but in the night sky who is gonna really see? Peering more intently into the mirror I noticed I was getting a tad thin on top, with a cryptic curse I grabbed up my pointy hat and crammed it on.. didn’t stand quite as perky as it used to but then again nothing stood out as perky as it once did. Squinting and grossing about needing glasses I sucked in my gut, plumped up my bosom and for a second I could almost sell myself on the fact I looked like Michel Phiefer in the Witches of Eastwick,” Eat your heart out boys.”Snapping my fingers for my broom I was almost ready to ride. Of course everyone has to be a clown even my broom wore a floating sticker that said “Change is the answer!” was that a political statement or was it referring to my attire.. hmmmmmmmms. With a determined shake of my hips the gown finally settled into place. Now if I can only remember to pull it out of the crack of my butt once I slide off my broom I might just pass. No matter how you cut it, “just saying no to crack” is never pretty, even a hag of my venerable years has to maintain some dignity. With a wave of my hand I splash on a healthy dose of “Tabu” and slash a liberal streak of bright red lipstick across my lips. I was ready to ride!Its my Night – Happy Halloween!
By Brenda Stiles
Halloween Hags available at Heeney. Every time you look at it you will smile and think…”things could be worse.”
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