Maria Scott Herndon: Fabric Of Being

  Painting by Vasili Aleksandrovich Kotarbinsky She walked to the edge of the lake and stared endlessly at her own reflection. She made numerous faces, trying to find herself again. She did not recognize any of the faces staring back at her. She had become her own stranger. When did it happen? She wondered. She sat down on the nearest rock and continued to stare at this stranger. The face that was staring back was the face of a failed woman, sad, unhappy with the choices she had made. At first, this woman was demanding, an action taker, then just as sudden, the face changed into a sad pathetic shell of a being, and she pondered how she’d gotten here. She had it all once, the whole American dream… then one day, it just vanished. She has no memory or awarness of it happening. does not remember it happening. It was all gone. She was alone, for the first time in her life and she had no clue of how to start living. She had lived in other’s shadows for so many years. She had lost her ide...

Illustration  by  Priscilla Burris It had been twenty years, she realized as she slipped the key into the lock. Twenty years since she left this place, this house. His house. Oh, she had been back for visits, short visits, and every single time she approached that door she felt the same icy shiver invade her heart and spread through her veins. Why had she thought this time would be different? Cassie was the oldest of three girls born to James and Lorena Trent. She was a big girl, had always been big, even as a child. Tall, with big bones and dark hair, she was completely different than her sisters. She always stood out, never fit in. Christine and Cathy were petite and large blue eyes shone out of their magnificent faces. When they were little, blonde manes floated as they flew into the air, out of Daddy's arms. They would squeal and laugh when his giant hands grabbed them back and folded them into him, one and then the other. Cassie was too big to throw. Later, they were athl...