An odd little short story that may leave you with a perplexed frown. |
She sat up. Cracked fingers searched the darkness, skimming over finely woven blankets and pillows until they met harshly with wood, and soon after, metal. A few more moments of search led to the discovery of a string. With a yank, yellow light exploded from the darkness, illuminating the round face, and small shoulders of a middle-eastern girl. Her ebon eyes could not be seen, for shadows lurked beneath her brows, but had they been visible, sleepy red threads would have been seen snaking about her whites. A yawn broke open her mouth and instinctively hand raised to cover it. A glint of gold caught the girl’s attention. Looking down at the hand that had been politely lifting to stifle her yawn, a frown capsized her face. On her finger was a ring. She twisted her hand around to see the bust of the ring, leaning closer into the amber glow. Her frown deepened with uncertainty when she saw it was but an unornamented, golden band. With her left hand, she made a motion to brush her fingertips over the gold, but decided against the action and instead lifted the ring nearer to her eye. It was plain band, nothing to distinguish it from an average marriage band. She overturned her hand again, and drew it so close that her palm was nearly touching her nose, searching for markings or lettering to give her a clue of its origin. She found none. She gradually lowered her ringed hand into her lap, soaking it leisurely into the pooled darkness. And she sat for a moment, unsure of what she was to do next. It would have been sensible for her ponder from where the ring had arrived, to rummage about her mind, to inventory sound reasons for waking to find a band resting upon her finger, but she sleep was still crackling in her mind. Taking one last glance towards her hand resting in the darkness, the girl raised her left hand and switched off the light, lowering herself into her pillows and shifting to slumber. |