Eduardo and I went for a stroll yesterday afternoon. The sun was making a rare presence in the village, impelling Eduardo to barge into my drawing room and tear me away from my book so that, in his words — “The Lord can slap your skin with some colour!”
I put on a light playsuit since it was warm, and a large hat in an attempt to shade my whole body from the sun. Eduardo had passed on the leather for once, donning shorts and a light striped shirt instead. Even his guyliner was lighter than usual.
“Darling you look like a sailor and less like a pirate today.”
“Huh! Don’t even joke about that Madeliene!
We headed towards the cliffs, barely heeding to our surroundings, talking about couture and ice cream. I told him I had fallen in love and all about the flower hoarder and he told me how the villagers had become too friendly all of a sudden and how some had started copying his look.
At one point, when we were climbing up a hill, Eduardo stopped, and, grabbing my hand for me to stop, he pointed to a woman with a veil over her head, standing by herself, unconscious of anything around her.
“Hmm, looks like we have another Miss Havisham on our hands Madeliene or do you think she’s a runaway bride?” he asked through a stage whisper.
“Oh darling, no, nothing has happened to her, she just loves wearing veils.”
“Oh, but, hmm, um..?”
“She came to the village a while ago because she wanted to live in a place where wearing veils on a Monday is as normal as a siesta on Sunday afternoon and where better to live than here, where women wear haute couture to buy bread and milk? I see she wore one of her less elaborate veils today. Oh darling, you should see her when the contours of her face are lined with a veil edged of Spanish lace that falls to her feet.”
“Madeliene, people usually commit you if you wore a veil on any given day…So, what does this woman do all day?”
“She paces in her garden and outside of her house donning a different veil everyday. No mosquito has ever come near her.”
Story credit: Image by Sofia Mauro.