Cancelled

She remembers the baby lizard lurking in her shoe rack. For fear of coming in close contact with it, she decides to consult her mother’s closet which is unfortunately full of old stuff, low-neck shirts and even ballistics. She doesn’t know what they do there; to gather dust, smell of moth balls, most likely.

At any rate, none of the free sandals go with her white top and khaki pants. The best the collection has to offer, clearly, is the pair of ancient bowling shoes, only used once, with three stripes of white on the brown surface. Or she thinks it must’ve been brown before. She can never be sure; too long has passed since its date of purchase.

She tries it on, bows a little in the dark to employ the help of her fingers. The closet is too dusty and reeks of damp wallpapers. Smoke rises from the floor at each movement; ironically, a vacuum cleaner stands in the corner hoping to be plugged in, if it can be helped.

Then the shoes fit. She stretches herself straightly, sighing, muttering some word of praise, half-meant.

She passes the full-length mirror and takes a quick look at her reflection. In the image, her wholeness seems in monochrome, the shades of white, gray and black only differing by small degrees. A few strands of hair hang lazily across her forehead. She parts them slowly, frowns at the little colorless pimples that crop up the surface and sees them deepen in ravine-like creases on the skin.

“I’m getting old.”

Just then, she feels something wriggle inside the left shoe. In panic, she quickly slumps down the floor, ignoring the stain the dust may leave on her pants. As she wrenches the shoe off, she bears witness to the clammy, tiny, trembling creature which she almost crushed with her toes. The scream dies in her throat. Instead, a look of intense shock comes over her face as if to substitute for the more correct reaction. The dust floats up; the shoe lies on the floor, the lizard beside it, silent, staring and scarcely visible.

Her legs start to shake and the thin hair stands on them.

In the mirror, she can see a much more colored wraith. She stands up and flicks the dusts off her attire. Carefully, she sticks her hand in her body bag for her phone. She keys in a short missive to her boyfriend, canceling the date. Many things have to be said between them before she’s able to face him again.

For now, she wants to be let alone.