You don’t see me but you will
I am not invisible
I am here
She never realized, nor dared guess a hazard, how utterly, simply, refreshingly, strangely compellingly easy it would be to live without a face.
Once you’ve gone faceless, you never go back.
(Hmm…does that sound creepy or is it just me? And how many adverbs can I squeeze into one sentence? These, along with dozens more questions will not be answered in this tale.)
Like the many others who are not included in this doodle, Mistress Mace Flutterly has no face. Or per asp (ha! hah!) I should say, no true face of her own. She collects them, you see. Keeping them in closets, drawers, hatboxes, candy dishes, or wherever else may captivate her fancy. Sometimes she hangs them with satin ribbons, tying them into bold, beautiful, belligerent bows, making these flipping fine faces into marvelously meticulous, mythically macabre masks.
“Masks are quite useful,” Mistress Flutterly says to no one in particular, as there is no one, Dear Reader but you and I. “You never know when you might need a dozen or so.”
Not one to be wasteful, she makes use of the faces she collects: wearing this one, then that, depending entirely upon her mood.
“It is so very difficult to decide,” She sighs with mild aggravation.
So she changes them often, as another lady might change her bonnet or scarf.
“And why keep them as they are? They’re already changed from their previous form. I’ll just add a touch more elegance or perhaps a dash of glitzy bling.”
Switching from mask to mask can be great fun, but decorating them is what really fills her heart with a red velvet pleasure.
“This one deserves a slash of silver glitter across her forehead,” She may chuckle to herself.
It could be silver is not her colour of the day. Mayhap she’s in the market for a few ruby red sequins, and will painstakingly pin hundreds, each with great care to a tiny, pointy chin. Then again she may lose herself completely and positively festoon an entire visage with rare jeweled cabochons.
And of these particularly peculiarly ornamented faces, she chooses her favourites, filing them away in an onerous armor. She could never part with a one for they’re all far too adorable.
And what say you? Wouldn’t you like a spare mask or two? Mayhap you already do.
How to acquire them, you may understandably wonder. How has Mistress Mace Flutterly obtain this copious number of the best faces that she can then wear like masks and merry spacers?
I really daren’t ask, but if a lapse in judgment I should suffer, I’d be certain from these lips the truth I’d never dream to utter.
© 2015 Intricate Knot