2 January 2013
Evelyn slipped on the black court shoe, and looked at her reflection in the gilt edged mirror. This was the third pair of black shoes she had tried; should she keep it comfortable and sensible, or go for the dramatic heel to offset the sombreness of her dress?
Yes, her little black dress; her favourite wardrobe staple. Friends were shocked at the amount she paid for this simplistically sexy, yet tailored to perfection, designer black dress. Still, ten years later it looked as current, and as good as new. Dressed up for parties, accessorised for the right occasion or dressed down when required. Always there when she needed it and she needed it now. Never had it crossed her mind when she bought it, that she would be wearing it to her own mothers funeral.
The flight was at 12.30; it was now 8 O' clock and she still hasn't packed. Organising an overnight bag wasn't normally this difficult. Travelling was second nature to her, picking out what to wear to such an event wasn't. She knew all eyes would be on her.
Evelyn hadn't seen her mother for six months, and even then it was a brief encounter. There was always an excuse, another appointment or somewhere else her mother had to be. Little did she know.
When The Music Stopped. Part 1 • Opuss № I