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Featured Author - January

Stories: 5

Story of the week:
Mistress Mira

View past Author's of the Month.

They sat, side by side, in the dark, on the loveseat. They were dressed identically; black sweatpants, white shirts, black fleecies, all medium-small, though each of the figures was decidedly a large. They were well rounded, both of them, taking up the whole seat at bottom, so that even a slimmer figure would have had to squeeze in tightly to sit next to them, though one would not think, quickly glancing at them from the waist up, that they were taking up that much room. One also would not notice, without looking closely, that they were not leaning back, but sitting up straight, without support, maintaining perfect posture.

The one on the left (not their left, of course, but the observer’s left), the black one, had a full round mouth, and a full round nose, and large round eyes, that complimented the roundness of its body. The one on the right, with its long Semitic nose, its thin pursed lips, and thin flowing black hair, looked thinner as a result, but their dimensions were basically the same.

Sitting there, notwithstanding the difference in appearance, they could not help but look a bit like sisters. Younger, perhaps, on the left, less thoughtful, the lips serenely closed, the eyes half-lidded. On right, the eyes more open, the tension in the mouth betraying a shade of concern. Their hands rested softly on their thighs, with the right figure’s right hand laid gently over that of its partner, the fingers curled slightly under the palm.

The lights came up.

In the corridor next to the kitchen, bright colours appeared, and snapped into the form of a woman, a red-haired and freckle-faced woman, her hair done up in two thickly knotted braids, wearing a colourful scarf, a black sweater, and a black skirt. Her whole body shimmered, and she straightened up and exhaled, smoothing out the image of her clothes, as the front door was unlocked.

The door swung open, and in stepped the same woman. Her hair was undone, flowing freely, and she was wearing blue jeans, but she also wore that same scarf. She took it off, along with her coat, and hung them up on the rack.

The hologram smiled, and raised her hand, and the door swung shut automatically. “Hello, Mira, how was your day?

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