Her name was Connie. She was fifteen and she had a quick, nervous giggling habit of craning her neck to glance into mirrors or checking other people’s faces to make sure her own was all right. Her mother, who noticed everything and knew everything and who hadn’t much reason any longer to look at her own face, always scolded Connie about it. “Stop gawking at yourself. Who are you? You think you’re so pretty?” she would say. Connie would raise her eyebrows at these familiar old complaints and look right through her mother, into a shadowy vision of herself as she was right at that moment: she knew she was pretty and that was everything. Her mother had been pretty once too, if you could believe those old snapshots in the album, but now her looks were gone and that was why she was always after Connie.
“Why don’t you keep your room clean like your sister? How’ve you got your hair fixed—what the hell stinks? Hair spray? You don’t see your sister using that junk.”
Her sister June was twenty-four and still lived at home. She was a secretary in the high school Connie attended, and if that wasn’t bad enough—with her in the same building—she was so plain and chunky and steady that Connie had to hear her praised all the time by her mother and her mother’s sisters. June did this, June did that, she saved money and helped clean the house and cookedand Connie couldn’t do a thing, her mind was all filled with trashy daydreams.
It's All Over Now, Baby Blue:
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sounds like an interesting read.
ReplyDeleteI am on book 3 of the 8 main novels of the Outlander books-these are so difficult to put down-if I am not careful I am reading half the night lol
Have a good weekend-any snow or ice??
We had a few flakes fall. It was noticeable on the roof of the garage and on the patio furniture but wasn't enough to be measurable. We'll take what we can get lol
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DeleteHope your wet stays rain. Our snow has fizzled a bit and now it is sleeting, which I am not sure is better. Oh I read this story a very long time ago. It might have been in college. You can't go wrong with Bob Dylan, even though some of his songs are better than others. Happy Sunday (or what's left to it). Hugs-Erika
ReplyDeleteWe got a touch -not even measurable. Sleeting is bad. Any kind of ice is bad. It looks pretty, but we can't play in it. I'd much rather have snow.
DeleteVery impressive read. I actually enjoyed it and it left me asking questions about the numbers on the side of the car. Thanks for sharing the reading link.
ReplyDeleteI saw Kathy's remark. We got snow and bitter winds, but it's now warmer than they predicted. It's actually in the high 20s F today, not counting wind chills.
Highs in the 20s! Those are our lows lol I'd freeze to death up there, I think.
DeleteShades of my mother saying, Why can't you be neat like your brother. Only he never used hairspray. At least not that I know of.
ReplyDeleteParents don't realize what a single comment can mean to a child, even when we grew up feeling it. Boys use styling gel ;)
DeleteI don't know the story but I loved that song of Bob Dylan. I will try to read the story when I have time. Have a great week! Valerie
ReplyDeleteI listened to the song, then read the story, then was impressed by how the creative mind works lol The Arizona murders were the real inspiration, I think, and I just misunderstood the connection with the song.
DeleteWill check the story. I'm enjoying a dose of Dylan so thank you
ReplyDeleteYou can't go wrong with Dylan :)
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