I was on my way home from the plant nursery when I caught sight of this convertible and my jaw dropped. Not that I'm blown away by old cars (though this was much like some I remember from my high school years) but because this is the car belonging to the main character in a short story I'm writing.
I followed the car for a while, hoping the woman driving it would turn in at the grocery store where I was headed but, alas, it was not to be.
Here's the opening of the story titled "Vondalee Puts on Her Cat's Eye Glasses" : Vondalee puts on her cat’s eye glasses with the diamonds on the edges and checks her lipstick in the mirror. Revlon’s Fire and Ice has always been her signature color, just as Emeraude is her scent. Back when she was a senior in high school she read in some magazine – Mademoiselle? Glamor? – about the importance of having a beauty signature and she has stuck by her choices ever since. The girls at the doctor’s office always comment that they can tell it’s her in the waiting room, just by the waft of her perfume. The white felt of the poodle skirt has yellowed and the waistband won’t meet but Vondalee has a big old diaper pin to hold it shut and she drapes a cardigan over her shoulders to hide the gap. It’s her best sweater -- baby pink angora with a precious kitty cat made of black sequins on the front. She frowns as she sees the sequins of the cat’s curling tail hanging loose and makes a mental note to get SueEllen to tack them down later. Vondalee eyes the faded shoe box that holds the black and white saddle shoes with red rubber soles. She adored those shoes -- they really completed this outfit. But there's no point even getting the box off the shelf what with the bunions on her feet. The ugly sandals the foot doctor put her into will have to do. She will rise above her feet. She’s stayed close to home ever since the hip operation – watching soap operas and never going anywhere but to church and to the doctor and to the grocery store with SueEllen where she can ride around on one of those little scooters. Like some old lady, she thinks. Time I got out on my own, like I used to. Time I got back to where I used to be.
Just a taste -- I'm about half way through the story and can't wait to see what Vondalee gets up to . . . and where she's going.
