A new being (english)

2 minutes de lecture

Let's go for Sahara !

10 moon points (PM)

When I woke up that morning, it took me a minute to emerge from a sidereal void. It was neither frightening nor strange, and I assumed the normal course of my life resumed as soon as the foot on the varnished floor.

I watched my hands sliding into my long curly brown hair ; graceful hands, very pretty. I detailed its shape, grain and complexion before the door of my room opened on a woman severely dressed in gray.

"Princess Sahara, happy to see you awake." She turned to the high windows, from which she opened the curtains with a familiar gesture, and it seemed to me that this space existed only since she showed it to me.

"Here are your clothes of the day, your father the king has asked you, you should hurry."

The tall woman had already made the turn to the wardrobe at the bottom of the room, releasing a flood of lace, waves of silks rolling crumbles of pearls more or less big. It was enough to dress up an entire orphanage.

I yawned, pulling myself out of bed. I wore a nightgown of rich invoice. His sumptuous touch (if a touch could be) brought me no feeling.

"Sahara?" asked the housekeeper, glaring at me while delicately laying the chosen items on a rococo stool. Rococo? Where did I get such a word? And who was this "Sahara"?

Lucidity came back to me, finally pulling me out of the glu of oblivion. I startled, panicked. Who, where, why, how?

"Uh..., I finally heaved, who... who are you?

- Princess, stop making fun, you don’t have time for such nonsense. Come on ! You woudn't want your sisters to cast stones at you again, would you ?

"But I...

- Make your choice, she cut me off, they will all look great on you."

I took a look at the truly splendid dresses now lying on the rack of pearl and obsidian. There were three together, three dresses and their capelin, their shoes and their hat :

A. A turquoise blue with floral motifs, whose length was as impressive as it was impractical ; its lace on the arms fell down to the wrists. It was very trendy in aristocratic and royal circles and its large hat filled with false flowers and fruits gave a tender air to any plague. Dark blue moccasins completed it.

B. A black velvet cut at calves, whose silver bordering the triple pleats also was on the shoulders in bird embroidery. I thought it was a little heavy. Its small headdress with mute gold bells was held by a very fine white ribbon, almost invisible. Its imposing and stern wealth forced deference. Black boots with golden piping this time arranged the final.

C. The whiteness of the last had the candor of an angel ; it stopped at half-thigh and was the most daring, despite its color. Fine and frivolous, with narrow sleeves continuing on the hands in bands, it attracted the gaze, the seduction. A sparkling and beaded headband acted as a hat. The style was similar to that of royal concubines, although it was also worn at parties. The heels of the shoes to be worn were of a disturbing height, but the elegant shape softened the impression of playful idleness.

Which one could I choose to suit both my father (from what the housekeeper told me) and the rest of the day? I didn’t even know what was going to happen...



Ce chapitre compte 2 versions.


Œil de Lynx
Réponse au défi une phrase par jour :)

Ce n'est pas une histoire, seulement des phrases jetées chaque jour au hasard... Je ne sais pas si cela respecte bien le principe du défi.
Ce recueil contient des questions en tous genres. Qu'elles soient légères, en rapport à la foi, la politique et j'en passe. Ceci est dans le but de communiquer avec vous et d'échanger entre auteurs. Je me réserve le droit de ne pas répondre à certains commentaires pour éviter les conflits. Ceci vous permettra de discuter entre vous, si vous le souhaitez. Si une question vous gêne trop, passez par-dessus. Ceci n'est pas un examen, vous pouvez répondre comme vous voulez. Qui sait ? Peut-être que ça vous permettra de vous faire quelques amis.
Opale Encaust
J'adore parler toute seule, tout le temps.
J'adore aussi me répondre, débattre avec moi-même de façon virulente ; commenter mes propres entreprises avec acidité.
Et puis des fois, je balance une phrase, comme ça, dans l'instant et, tout haut, je me rends compte que ça ne veut strictement rien dire.
Là, même les murs me jugent...

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