The captive maiden by melanie dickerson5/27/2023 ![]() She had the same limp brown hair as her sister, Contzel, but that was the only trait they had in common. ![]() Irma was the oldest, and her long, thin face and squinty-eyed expression made Gisela wonder if the girl had a bad taste in her mouth. Lighter footfalls clattered up the stairs and Gisela’s two stepsisters pushed against their mother’s silk skirt, staring out from behind her. Gisela made her face a blank as she stared at the floor. “Gisela! What are you doing?” Evfemia towered over her. ![]() She thrust the portrait back inside the hole in the fireplace wall and pushed in the loose brick, then kicked the ashes into the fire to smother it. Her stepmother’s unforgiving wooden pattens clicked up the steps that led to Gisela’s attic room. ![]() “I love you,” she whispered, kissing her portrait-father’s cheek as a tear dripped off her chin. Now that Gisela was eight and Father was gone, life could never be the same. The artist had painted it the year before, when Gisela was seven. Gisela huddled by the fire in her attic chamber, clutching the miniature portrait that fit in her hand. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |