BRIDGES OF TIME

BY:  ROSE CARR

CHAPTER THREE

She shot up. Her hair wet with perspiration and reached out with a shaking hand to shut off the shrieking wail of the alarm clock. “I’m up! I’m up!” she muttered darkly. She flipped the covers back and reached for her robe at the foot of the bed, shrugging into it as she padded across the carpeted floor of her new apartment to the tiny kitchen. Stifling a jaw creaking yawn she filled the pot with enough water for two cups of coffee, measured out the strong aromatic French roast she preferred and set it to brew. In the bathroom she washed her face and brushed her teeth all the while trying to avoid looking at herself but gave in to the lure of the mirror. She turned her head from side to side and studied her face in the bright unforgiving light. Little lines fanned out around her eyes and mouth, she touched them with her fingers and grinned wryly. Had the best years of her life gone by? Was her mother right? “Well?” she asked the reflection in the mirror. Of course no answer came. There were only the clear amber eyes staring back at her and they reveled nothing. No help there!

She made a face, plucked a towel from the rack and patted her face dry. Thinking it might be wise to check the unpredictable Paris weather she took a look out the window and sighed. Low scudding clouds skimmed across the sky heavy with the threat of rain. She did love the rain but not on her first day of work! The damp weather would cause her curly hair to frizz into a thousand ringlets and make her look like a street urchin. Not wanting to take the any chances she put an extra dab of firm hair gel in her palms and brushed it through the offending red locks that were already springing to life. She then drew it all back into a loose bun and fastened it with a decorative hair clip to keep it firmly in place. She slipped into her lucky blue Donna Karen suit and matching sling back pumps. A dusting of light coral blush and a slick of pink lip-gloss completed her look. She was clipping on her earrings when the phone rang, oh no, she grimaced, I hope it’s not Mom again. “No,” I won’t answer it she said out loud, not today. She grabbed her purse, briefcase, and raincoat and rushed out the door before she changed her mind.

to be continued....

© 2003 Rose Carr

Contact the author:  Rosematuse@aol.com

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