An Acceptable Loss
BlueRose
She plopped down on the bed. Its soft coverlet cushioned her tired body as she slipped off her shoes in one deft movement. She combed her fingers through her thick, curly hair, hoping to remove some of the tangles. She didn't need the mirror on the adjoining wall to tell her that she was garishly sun burnt, dirty all over, and her complexion still retained that irritating little red spot on the end of her nose.
She sighed, it had been a long day. Much too long. She really shouldn't have gone to work at all that day. She should have stayed home sick and gone through all the business she'd been putting off since the expedition. No, she loved her job. Far too much, in some people's opinion. But no matter, she wouldn't care what certain people thought about her.
She stood up unwillingly, catching her breath as her feet cried out in protest. Taking long, swift strides over the soft white carpet until she stood in front of the closet. Opening the thick French doors, she peered inside the dark abyss.
It was a mess, as usual. Shoes were strewn about all over the floor, many with no visible mate and some she hadn't worn since her girlhood. She rifled through racks of garments, hoping her khaki suit was clean.
Her thoughts shifted to tonight's festivities. She hadn't wanted to go to the party. Sugary-sweet politeness made her tired and champagne gave her a headache. She'd rather be at home, but the Cairo Museum insisted she attend, since it was her discovery the museum profited from. No matter, she'd go just to show certain people that she could be just as charming as the next girl.
The hangers screeched against the metal rod as she moved from outfit to outfit. She decided against the khaki suit. Certain people might think she was dowdy and boring. A bright flash of crimson fabric from the back of the closet caught her eye.
Straining forward, she grasped the edge of the hanger. She missed, exerting several profanities as she slipped, bruising her elbows against the sharp heels of the mate less shoes at the bottom of the closet.
Picking herself up, she gave another shot at the hanger and successfully retrieved it. Brushing off stray spider webs, she admonished her own behavior. She hadn't sworn until after the expedition. She must have picked it up from certain ungentlemanly people who didn't know how to talk politely.
Sliding the dress from its hanger, she gave it a once-over. It wasn't anything she would have worn in the old days. The neckline was far too low for a scholar of her station. It hadn't even been her idea to buy it to begin with. A friend had persuaded her, speaking lies about how well the color contrasted with her pale skin and dark unruly hair.
But tonight, she would wear the dress. Only, of course, because certain people would find it scandalous.
"But it doesn't matter what he...," she spoke aloud, correcting herself. "I mean, they think."
Holding up the dress to her figure, she spun around once in front of the mirror. She stopped in mid pirouette and stared at her reflection with wondering eyes.
"I must be losing my dignity," she said aloud, reaching with one hand to brush loose hair away from her face. It was crazy for she, a respectable scholar and expected spinster twenty-four years of age to be dancing around like a schoolgirl. And it was all because she wanted to spite some person who probably never gave her a second thought.
Slipping the dress over her head, she smiled again. He would be at the party tonight and if all she had to loose was her dignity, then she was better off than most people.