Clara
The room murmurs softly; brushes, curling irons. Low voices.
Everything is happening around me… and yet, at times, I feel like I'm somewhere else.
Sitting in front of the mirror, I watch my reflection as they finish my makeup. My eyes look brighter than usual, deeper… as if they can't hide everything I'm feeling.
"Don't move, darling," the makeup artist says with a smile, "we're almost done."
I nod slightly, but my mind… My mind isn't entirely here.
I feel a lump in my throat, one that's been growing since I woke up. One that isn't just about excitement, it's about him, about my father.
My eyes drop for a second and I blink, trying not to cry. Because today… today he should be here.
He should be behind me, making some awkward comment, trying to hide that he's excited too.
H
