a story made with pictures
By Tommi Boshart
I remember where I first saw her. We were at a party thrown by a friend. It was outdoors, in the backyard of the clubhouse down the street. Everything was natural: cobblestone paths and candles in glass wrapped in lilac stems. But the one thing I remember is the upcycled light bulbs, schönes bloonbirne, turned into hanging flower holders. Something about the trees laden with these vases was sketched into my mind so deep. Well, besides first seeing her.
She came, into this rustic scene, wearing a lace dress with long sleeves and a puffed skirt, but the thing that made her stick out was the color. Cherry red. She made a scene among the waves of tan, denim, and brown pigments of everyone else, and that’s when I knew I’d get along with her. That’s when I met my best friend. The show at the party wasn’t the only thing. We went to Paris once and she stormed through the city with high heels and a tan party dress high in the front, low in the back. The corset top and ruffles on the skirt were different, even in the city of style. She was the light, although foreign, that outshined all those around her.
She entered from the light blue house atop the hill, walked down the aisle in a tan dress with lace on the top and crawling out from the waistband. Did I mention she liked lace? She was stunning, as always, but the glamour didn’t last. Their marriage was a success, but soon after the big day, she lost a baby. Her husband bought her a simple charm, sterling silver heart with a baby tucked inside and one, dazzling, white diamond. She wore the necklace out; she was always buying a new chain to carry the pendant. She was hard to talk to after that. Sometimes she’d even cry. Her husband and I tried to help her out, and soon she was pregnant again. The blues fluttered away like butterflies to a warm place. It was a girl, who was sent to ballet school. Soon she was the lead in all her performances. What a charmed life. Oh how I envy. But all through this time it wasn’t just her life improving, but mine. I held on to those frivolous fairy tales and sashayed my way through life on high heels and shining dresses. I met my husband at one of her parties too; a real gentleman. We were married in the mountains, with a rustic wedding. And there were light bulbs hanging from the trees.
This is a story made with pictures taken from random Pinterest posts. Pictures ARE NOT MINE!!! I don't have the sources of the pictures (SORRY!!! I DON'T WANT TO COPYRIGHT!!!). I'll be better next time. ;( I hope you enjoyed the story.