Friday, May 29, 2009


The boy stood in the clothes store while his mother squeezed herself in a pair of enthousiastically tight jeans behind the little blue curtain of the dressing room.
He could hear her muffled groans and sighs as she tried to peel on the trousers.
Curtain moving a little, with every attempt.

He wasn't sure why his mother had taken him along on this shopping trip.
And felt slightly anxious to be separated from her by that moving curtain.
The feeling was emphasized by the voracious looks on other women's faces as they grabbed garments from the shelves and garment rails, the loud dance music in the store and the muffled groans of his mother.

He was just about to put on his best panicked cry, when suddenly....between two particularly wild looking women with ruffled hairs who were discussing who had dibs on a horrible pink and yellow dress...
He saw IT.

Standing at the back of the store, bare and fleshy pink....
Small beam of sunlight marking its location...
The only still item in a room full of movement, cries, music and fluttering colors...
Was a naked mannequin.

He left his mother for what she was.
Left her bags unattended.
And waded through the masses of women and clothes that had frightened him only a moment ago.

Ducking underneath a purple dress that swooshed over his head, he suddenly found himself face to face with it. He looked up at the towering synthetic figure and took it in.

The pink skin of the mannequin glistened slightly in the sunlight.
Its bald head softly rounded.
Piercing blue eyes staring into nothingness.
Light pink, slightly parted lips seemingly about to say something sweet.
Slender neck and shoulders.
Arms parted in a loving gesture.
Curvatious hips moving down into slender legs.
Feet attached to a metal plate.

Then up again...
To two small, round mounts.

He took a step forward and started a slow approach towards the statuesque fleshy pink figure.
Facing her, he softly touched her left leg with his right index finger.
It felt hard but smooth and cold.
He traced her leg with his finger, then gently caressed it, embracing the right leg with his left arm.
Slowly his hand moved upwards.
He let go of his embrace and detatched himself slightly, looking up.
His two hands now slowly reaching for the two round mannequin breasts.

His mother pulled him away with an angry grab of his right arm.
He fell onto the floor, his head banging against the mannequin's right leg.
Slowly the mannequin toppled over to the left, coming to a crashing standstil on its right side.
Its beautiful bald head split open, bits of fleshy pink debris scattering.

Tears welled in his eyes as he looked into her now graceless face.
He felt an emptyness he had never felt before.

Then he saw a piece of the eye staring at him centimetres from his mother's left shoe.
As she pulled him up he grabbed it quickly and clutched it in his hand.

The eye felt smooth and warm.

He smiled, his face wet with tears, while his mother furiously dragged him out of the store, her hands full of shopping bags.

He wasn't scared anymore....

1 comment:

Ken Armstrong said...

I enjoyed this a lot.

My memory is cloudy but, yes, I *may* have been than boy. :)