Articles/Ideas/Prompts - Short Fiction - Writing Exercises

For the first time today when I looked in the mirror I liked what I saw. She's strong and I like the fire behind her blue eyes. She's got smooth flowing red hair that's slowly turning blonde, bleached by the sun's rays. She's got long well muscled legs that someday would be great in a martial art. You can tell by her grin that she's a little bit evil, but it's easy enough to look innocent. She could sit there all day and make cute faces; she'd have the whole world kneeling before her by the time she was done. Or maybe not, who knows?

Marla

When I look in the mirror now I question everything. I question my heritage, my faith, my parents but most of all I question my queen. I question the woman who raised me, who sent me to a thousand lessons and bought me a thousand pretty dresses. I question the long pretty curls that she insisted I keep even when I wanted to cut my hair in half. I question the dresses she bought me and her pretty necklace, the emerald I lost in the river. I question if all these gifts were just her trying to keep me distracted from the truth. I suppose she didn't realize that the greatest gift of all was the secret in my bedroom; but then again picking locks wasn't part of my lessons.

All those pretty curls are gone; my hair wasn't really curly anyway. It sits at my shoulders now when it's down but most of the time I keep it in a bun. Hair gets in the way when you're out in the woods hunting rabbits or deer or even men. I don't have any really pretty dresses here-the one I was wearing when I jumped into the river got wrecked, of course-but I like the plain ones at least as much. At least I know the people who gave me these ones actually care.

Sometimes when I get ready to go hunting I put on all my gear and pick up my sword, then I stop to look in the mirror. With my hair in a bun and my hunting clothes on, I barely look like the princess I am. With sword in hand and quiver on my back, I look like a huntress out for blood. But my blue eyes look dull and lifeless, and I don't quite look right without Logan by my side. It seems that I have no friends when I look at my lonely self, even though everyone in the village cares for me. But none of them mean half as much to me as Logan always did.

Maybe in ten years when I look in the mirror there will be a handsome man behind me and a baby in my belly, but first I have to find my best friend and my purpose. When I looked in the mirror at home I saw a girl destined to a long life of misery in the court system, married to the ugly man the queen chose for me. Now I look in the mirror and see a lost girl looking for her purpose. Someday I hope to look in the mirror and see a woman raising a happy family, living in a kingdom where everyone is judged and treated fairly.

I have to make the future I want to see in the mirror. And for now I will have to look at a girl that barely seems to be me.

(The first paragraph was written by me about me; the rest is from Marla's point of view, a character important to my latest novel-length project.)

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