11.1 The Abyss of WonderLand

Simone finally issued her statement. “Yes. The red dress is the best. The shoes fit you best, too, although you will need to be careful as you walk. It would not be a successful endeavor if you fell flat on your face in front of Timothy.”

“Thanks for the encouragement,” I said under my breath.

Simone must have the ears of a young person. She flashed a smile at me and nodded. “You will be returning often, my dear. We shall work on your poise, your grace, and keep up on the facials, as well as tend to the needs of your new hairstyle.”

As if that had opened my concentration, I suddenly became aware of the length of my hair. Had I been given extensions? I started to reach back and touch it, but Simone stopped me.

“Enough,” she said. “Judy has said you will be Timothy’s choice, so that is enough for me. Luckily, the red dress can remain on. You are ready. Your driver is waiting.”

“But,” I said, flustered. “Can’t I see what I look like? What have you done with my hair?”

“We have improved you everywhere, my dear. You are a changed woman.”

She clicked her fingers, and a mirror was carried out by one of the workers, Gabby, I think.”

But when I looked in the mirror, it wasn’t me who stared back. My hair was as long as I’d felt it to be when I’d swished it back and forth. But it was blonde streaked. My bangs were mere whisps. How had a solid line turned into a whisper of youth? Dang, whoever the person in front of me was that was staring back at me, she looked good. Even her cheekbones were pronounced. Her eyes were bluer. Her lashes long and curved. She wore lipstick and had perfect eyebrows.

I turned to gasp at Simone. “What have you done? I don’t look like me? I think it’s wonderful, but I’m not sure. I think it’s impossible to do this, isn’t it?”

“It is time to go, Penelope. Good luck tonight. May fortune be in your favor.”

The driver in his almost military-like uniform took my elbow in his hand and walked me out the door before I’d realized it. Too much had happened. It was a dream. No more than a bizarre dream, yet, when I sat down in the limo, the seats felt real. The white leather was smooth and soft against the back of my knees.

 

 

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