Rose Without Thorn
~ In Praise of Mary - Anonymous
~ In Praise of Mary - Anonymous
Meredith Kensington saw a cat on her way home from school.
This was not unusual in itself; Meredith often saw cats.
However, the cat that Meredith saw on her way home from school seemed to be the same cat that she saw yesterday, looking at her from the school window, and the day before; twice, the first time when getting into her mum’s car, then again ten minutes later at the Tesco’s that was at least a mile and a half away.
She also heartily suspected it of being the same cat she saw that weekend, when staying with her friend. In Kent.
As a result, she mistrusted it greatly.
It was a black cat, not too large with silver eyes. Well, Meredith tried to reassure herself, they were silver because they were reflecting the light, but Meredith knew deep down that, even if there was no light left in all the universe, those eyes would still be silver, and they would still glow.
The most disconcerting thing about this cat, aside from the fact that Meredith was about sixty-eight per cent sure it was following her, was that it never, ever seemed to move.
No, that wasn’t right. It did move, but not when she was looking.
It’s be staring straight at her, wherever she happened to be. And she would walk past it, and it would not have twitched so much as a whisker. Then, when she turned, it would be staring at her once again, not a hair ruffled, his posture not changed in the slightest.
But she could never catch it in transition from one stance to the other, no matter how quickly she turned.
But by far the most irritating thing about this cat was that it wouldn’t come to her when she called it.
That was just completely unnatural.
Meredith Kensington was a pretty girl.
No. I apologise.
Meredith Kensington is a gorgeous girl, and like so many quietly gorgeous girls she would not have believed if you told her (me? Gorgeous? No! please, don’t say that haha it’s not true.)
She had large hazel eyes, surrounded on all sides by thick, lengthy curled lashes. Her lips, though large, fit perfectly on the features of her face. However they were often chapped and breaking and when they weren’t they were bitten almost to bleeding.
Her hair, which was black, shiny and loosely curled, hung down past her shoulders to the middle of her back.
She was blessed with that perfect hip to waist ratio, the one the beauties of our world have all possessed, and her legs were long and strong, the sort of legs that screamed to be touched.
Of course, as a quietly gorgeous girl who truly did not think that she was even pretty, she was prone to covering up her beauty with baggy, shapeless layers and a book that was perpetually attached to her face.
But that Meredith is exquisite is important.
“Meredith! Wake up! It’s a quarter to eight, you’ll be late!”
Meredith’s mother, a whirlwind in a skirt suit and heels flung open the doors to Meredith’s room, pulled the covers off her groggy daughter and half rolled her out of bed.
She briefly inspected the book her daughter had –no doubt- fallen asleep reading last nights: Plato’s Republic.
She never ceased marvelling at her daughter’s oddities.
“Let me see your face,” her mother said, pulling open the curtains and swivelling her daughter round. “Oh! Your bags go down to the corners of your mouth. You look like death. Get in the shower; get in the shower!”
Meredith made a pained sound, of the sort one would more expect from a beached whale than a fifteen year old girl, but her mother ignored her and bustled her into the bathroom, chucking a towel in after her.
Meredith was halfway through her shower when her mother burst in once again with a pot of foundation. “Put this on darling,” she said, “I’ve run out of concealer so this will have to do. I’ve got to go now, but I love you and have a nice day. See you sweety.”
Meredith made another sound, which could have meant anything, but at least sounded human.
She bypassed the foundation.
It was sticky and it felt odd on her face and it gave her spots. She’d rather stick with the swathes of blackened skin under her eyes.
Meredith got ready in record time- ten minutes- and grabbed a single Weetabix biscuits to eat on her way to school.
The black cat was sitting on the wall outside of her house when she opened the door.
“Shoo!” she said, flapping her hand about. “Get on!” but it didn’t.
She walked slowly down her path, keeping an eye on the cat. It did not move. She sidled through her gate and out on to the street, still watching it. It remained facing her door. She began to walk up her road, backwards, still looking at the cat. It did not move.
And then she blinked, so quickly she didn’t even realise that she was doing it, and the cat was staring at her again.
Meredith ran all the way to school.
Caleb and Siobhan were used to seeing their friend slink in late with an apology to their form tutor, and so when they walked in that morning to see Meredith sitting calmly in her chair with The Republic open in front of her, they were rightfully very shocked.
“Edie!” Siobhan exclaimed, and then: “but you’re on time!”
Meredith shrugged in a bashful sort of way and returned to Plato.
“Anything to declare?” Caleb asked as he sat down opposite her.
“Err…” she began, thoughtfully, then, “um- no.”
This was not unusual. Meredith often forgot what she was saying, often as she was saying it.
Siobhan patted Meredith’s shoulder, and sat down too.
Meredith being Meredith, promptly returned to her book.
This was not unusual in itself; Meredith often saw cats.
However, the cat that Meredith saw on her way home from school seemed to be the same cat that she saw yesterday, looking at her from the school window, and the day before; twice, the first time when getting into her mum’s car, then again ten minutes later at the Tesco’s that was at least a mile and a half away.
She also heartily suspected it of being the same cat she saw that weekend, when staying with her friend. In Kent.
As a result, she mistrusted it greatly.
It was a black cat, not too large with silver eyes. Well, Meredith tried to reassure herself, they were silver because they were reflecting the light, but Meredith knew deep down that, even if there was no light left in all the universe, those eyes would still be silver, and they would still glow.
The most disconcerting thing about this cat, aside from the fact that Meredith was about sixty-eight per cent sure it was following her, was that it never, ever seemed to move.
No, that wasn’t right. It did move, but not when she was looking.
It’s be staring straight at her, wherever she happened to be. And she would walk past it, and it would not have twitched so much as a whisker. Then, when she turned, it would be staring at her once again, not a hair ruffled, his posture not changed in the slightest.
But she could never catch it in transition from one stance to the other, no matter how quickly she turned.
But by far the most irritating thing about this cat was that it wouldn’t come to her when she called it.
That was just completely unnatural.
Meredith Kensington was a pretty girl.
No. I apologise.
Meredith Kensington is a gorgeous girl, and like so many quietly gorgeous girls she would not have believed if you told her (me? Gorgeous? No! please, don’t say that haha it’s not true.)
She had large hazel eyes, surrounded on all sides by thick, lengthy curled lashes. Her lips, though large, fit perfectly on the features of her face. However they were often chapped and breaking and when they weren’t they were bitten almost to bleeding.
Her hair, which was black, shiny and loosely curled, hung down past her shoulders to the middle of her back.
She was blessed with that perfect hip to waist ratio, the one the beauties of our world have all possessed, and her legs were long and strong, the sort of legs that screamed to be touched.
Of course, as a quietly gorgeous girl who truly did not think that she was even pretty, she was prone to covering up her beauty with baggy, shapeless layers and a book that was perpetually attached to her face.
But that Meredith is exquisite is important.
“Meredith! Wake up! It’s a quarter to eight, you’ll be late!”
Meredith’s mother, a whirlwind in a skirt suit and heels flung open the doors to Meredith’s room, pulled the covers off her groggy daughter and half rolled her out of bed.
She briefly inspected the book her daughter had –no doubt- fallen asleep reading last nights: Plato’s Republic.
She never ceased marvelling at her daughter’s oddities.
“Let me see your face,” her mother said, pulling open the curtains and swivelling her daughter round. “Oh! Your bags go down to the corners of your mouth. You look like death. Get in the shower; get in the shower!”
Meredith made a pained sound, of the sort one would more expect from a beached whale than a fifteen year old girl, but her mother ignored her and bustled her into the bathroom, chucking a towel in after her.
Meredith was halfway through her shower when her mother burst in once again with a pot of foundation. “Put this on darling,” she said, “I’ve run out of concealer so this will have to do. I’ve got to go now, but I love you and have a nice day. See you sweety.”
Meredith made another sound, which could have meant anything, but at least sounded human.
She bypassed the foundation.
It was sticky and it felt odd on her face and it gave her spots. She’d rather stick with the swathes of blackened skin under her eyes.
Meredith got ready in record time- ten minutes- and grabbed a single Weetabix biscuits to eat on her way to school.
The black cat was sitting on the wall outside of her house when she opened the door.
“Shoo!” she said, flapping her hand about. “Get on!” but it didn’t.
She walked slowly down her path, keeping an eye on the cat. It did not move. She sidled through her gate and out on to the street, still watching it. It remained facing her door. She began to walk up her road, backwards, still looking at the cat. It did not move.
And then she blinked, so quickly she didn’t even realise that she was doing it, and the cat was staring at her again.
Meredith ran all the way to school.
Caleb and Siobhan were used to seeing their friend slink in late with an apology to their form tutor, and so when they walked in that morning to see Meredith sitting calmly in her chair with The Republic open in front of her, they were rightfully very shocked.
“Edie!” Siobhan exclaimed, and then: “but you’re on time!”
Meredith shrugged in a bashful sort of way and returned to Plato.
“Anything to declare?” Caleb asked as he sat down opposite her.
“Err…” she began, thoughtfully, then, “um- no.”
This was not unusual. Meredith often forgot what she was saying, often as she was saying it.
Siobhan patted Meredith’s shoulder, and sat down too.
Meredith being Meredith, promptly returned to her book.
No comments:
Post a Comment