She stood determined and defiant before the gilt mirror that hung and had hung for many generations, as a centrepiece on the formal landing. Her reflection told her that another year had passed, another decade said goodbye to. How many years now, eighty? Yes, thatβs about right.
She scrutinised her face as one who was newly introduced. What would one see? Not smooth skin, no corrective surgery here, but not rough either. Warm and life weathered. Eyes as bright and quick as always, sea green and sparkling. Hair a little grey but full and thick. She wondered briefly whether she ought to grow it long and wear it in a bun but vanity kept it short. The pixie was still looking at her, no grandma brigade here, the hair stays short.
Shoulders back, a wink, a crooked smile and she turned with a twirl to descend the staircase to meet her family gathered to celebrate her life so far.
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@jojo72
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