Kathryn Perry
AP English 11
Pd. 7
A Moment In Time
My index finger carefully caresses the cool and artistic structure of the decorative hair comb. Its smooth silver edges glimmer in the light when I move it. Its curious shape and design prickle the senses on the tip of my finger as I stroke the elaborate hair piece. Its ornate design still takes my breath away when I gaze at it.
While I brush the surface of the comb, my mind wanders to the kiosk in Boston where I purchased this beautiful accessory. I can feel the edges of my mouth creep up, and my lips part away from each other. I remember that wondrous journey that occurred only months ago. I bask in remembrance of my emotions when I sang with my companions, and drown in the joyous emotion I remember having when we took first prize. That day in May was a very special day.
Just as today will be.
As my mind drifts back from the fond memories back into reality, I look up and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I quickly look away, reluctant to see my transformation. I look back down to stare at the ornate design of the comb. It’s cold. Yet when my fingers carefully fondle the precious combination of glass and soft metal, it seems to assimilate to my body’s temperature.
Glints of light reflect on nearby surfaces as the light from my dresser lamp simmers down. When I look directly into the carefully carved glass crystals I see an assortment of colors. My own personal rainbow.
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I sit there and count: one, two, three…thirty seven. Thirty seven crafted glass crystals glimmer up at my glowing face right now. My leg twists around the foot of the stool I currently occupy. I’m getting restless. I don’t know if I want to just get it over with, or keep myself locked up in my room for the rest of the night. No. I don’t want to think about it just yet.
I retreat back to my lovely hair piece. Five clear glass crystal flowers, countless metal swirls, and even some tiny little metal leaves on the very horizontal edges protrude out. The spikes that keep the comb in my hair are somewhat crooked. Evidence it has indeed been worn before.
I take in a deep breath, smelling and tasting at the same time my glorious perfume of choice. I stand up and smooth down the dress. Giving myself a few quick pinches in the cheeks for the rosy look, I regain my confidence. Lastly I delicately place the hair comb in the carefully calculated spot on my head, just as rehearsed.
I am ready.
