WEIRD & WONKY WORLD WRITING CHALLENGE

The Changeling

         "Sister dear, have you never considered the possibility? Hasn't the idea ever intrigued you?"

         Across the living room tucked up into her armchair next to an open window, Millicent coughed yet again. Pausing to place her latest needlepoint project in her lap she glanced at her twin sibling. At least she presumed she was staring at her. The ever-present cloud of nicotine obscured its source.

         "What are you blathering on about?"

         "Why matrimony, silly. Did you ever think about it?"

         To emphasize her query, Merrilee held up the newspaper she'd been perusing and waved it.

         Her sister heard the rustling and registered something blurry parting the smoke. She pushed her eyeglasses back up onto her nose and squinted.

         "Oh for heaven's sake," huffed Merrilee. "Can't you see the headline? Today is Decide to Be Married Day. In other words, are you a spinster by choice? Hmmm?"

         Why am I surprised? That sister of mine never ceases to irk me. What kind of a random question is that? And who is she calling a spinster anyway? Who came up with that disparaging title?

         As she pondered her reply, Millicent witnessed her twin carefully rest her smouldering cigarette in the ash tray at her elbow and step into the light. Well, the lamps had technically been lit for hours while Merrilee puffed in silence. She re-emerged. The smoke shifted. Millicent sucked in a breath. Not for the first time she marveled at the uncanny resemblance. Except for those deep wrinkles etched around the lips and the eyes. Was she actually twirling?

         "Are you really dancing? What's the occasion?"

         "I can still hear the music. Can't you? Mama was so right to insist that Daddy cough up the funds for a string quartet. I felt like a fairy princess. My gown floated with me in it. I remember the sequins twinkling under those tiny lights. What were they called? Oh, right, how appropriate, fairy lights. And my Prince Charming beamed at me. I believe he was star struck and rightfully so. It was magical."

         Millicent suppressed a guffaw, or was it a scathing retort?

         Oh, yes, I have a memory or two of that day. Your groom-to-be was a lucky man. He didn't encounter Bridezilla, the terror, the raging Fury. Oh, and the tears. Not yours, of course. I still don't understand how Mama survived all the drama. She deserved a medal.

         "So, did you celebrate a Decide to Be Married Day? You were what, thirteen when you began the scheming?"

         "I can't truthfully deny I'd dreamed of my wedding. What little girl doesn't? You watched Cinderella, too. I think the decision was mutual. It started with The Proposal. I'd've been crazy to say no."

         "So, I'm curious. Did you have stars in your eyes? Were you blinded by fairy dust? Wait, did fireworks erupt? Did either of you swoon?"

         Merrilee cackled. "Swoon? Who uses that word? Did I fall for him? Don't be ridiculous. He did not so much as sweep me off my feet. His Daddy knew our Daddy. I recognized a good catch when I saw one. It was as simple as that."

         Yes, I watched that fairy tale movie, too. I thought it was about a happy ending and true love. I never believed in the fairy Godmother rescue, or a one-of-a-kind glass slipper. I mean, who would walk in a breakable shoe? I never conversed with mice, either. People were supposed to find their soul mate, right? Just not royalty.

         Merrilee plopped back onto the settee, not the sofa. She seemed to study her painted talons, oops, finger nails.

         "I might still be a wife. Being part of a pair wasn't entirely bad. He was a good provider. No one warned me about the dragon lady. She never accepted me. His Mommy could complain and whine. She insisted I should cook, and clean up after her precious son. It was my duty. She told him that I spent too much money. Nag, nag, she never let up. I was the wife, not her. He didn't listen to me. I may have called his sainted mother a hag."

         Millicent stared. This was quite possibly the most her twin sister had ever said, or confessed.

         Is it possible that Merrilee has depth, substance? I've always thought of her as a cartoon fairy. She glitters. She dazzles. She flits and flutters. She reminded me of a will-o-the-wisp, flighty. Had her existence not been a fairy tale? Sure, there'd been a divorce, but she seemed to shrug it off. She had run from one soiree to another. She seemed to have endless funds for extravagances.

         Before Millicent could utter some form of commiseration, some token of sisterly solace, Merrilee jumped to her spiked heels. She bore down upon her gaping twin and hoisted her to her sensible loafers. Swatting aside the flailing arms the divorcee pushed the spinster down the hallway towards the bedrooms. The suppressed air whooshed from her startled lungs as Millicent dropped to a padded chair before Merrilee's primping table and mirror.

         The ensuing hour passed in a blur. Merrilee set her jaw and commenced to create a transformation. A few times she had to stop her ministrations and force her victim struggling subject to be still. This required a firm clenching of shoulders and the odd head lock. She hummed as she worked her form of magic. Millicent squawked and yelped to no avail.

         Despite glaring daggers at her tormentor and wishing she had actual sharp knives at hand, Millicent endured all manner of diabolical attacks. Her hair was heated, teased and fluffed. Her scalp tingled. Her facial skin was slathered, compressed, pinched and tweaked. Something dabbed her eyelashes and traced her eyelids. Her lips were squeezed into a pout and painted.

         Is this how a wall feels? Have I been pummeled? Have I been spackled?

         With a flourish the artiste nodded at the scowling reflection before her.

         "There, now you look like a million bucks. You don't need to thank me. It wasn't as bad as I thought. No one will mistake you for a spinster now. What do you think? It's quite the makeover, eh?"

         Millicent fumed. No, she seethed. How dare she.

         Merrilee clapped her sister on the back and chirped, "Come on, get up. Just change into something a little more festive and we're off to go dancing."

         "And why would I agree to do that?" hissed Millicent.

         "I decided it's Be Merry Day. Come on. Live a little. Give it a whirl. You never know, you just might like it."

         I've just realized something. My twin sister is certifiably crazy. Wait, no, she's a changeling. We can't possibly be related.          1117 words          PROMPTS: Decide to Be Married Day and International Fairy Day