• Dress Straps Like Puppet Strings



    “It just doesn’t work for your body, dear. Just take it off, take it off.”

    Patsy Prey heard those words ring in her mind over and over again. The more she heard them, the more they made perfect sense. As she looked at herself in the mirror, the clothes wrapped around her figure screamed in protest. Yes, her mother was right. These clothes just did not do anything for her. Smiling, Patsy took them off and threw them over her couch, where her mother would undoubtedly take them for her own designing disasters.

    “Yoo-hoo, Patsy dear, I’m back!” Ms. Prey had returned with a cluster of new clothes for her daughter to try on. She did not believe in trying things on at the store. Whenever asked why she didn’t believe in such a wonderful thing, she would simply shrug, and throw the new clothes into her daughter’s room. Of course, most of the clothes never worked for Patsy anyway. The girl was simply too corpulent. The apparel never seemed to get back to the store, though. Receipts mysteriously disappeared; therefore they could never be returned again. It wouldn’t matter either way, for soon they would have a new frilly collar or a shorter train, thanks to Ms. Prey.

    Ms. Prey was sharp and trim, a woman of respect in her late years. Divorce being her middle name, and Mother Goose not being one, she on many occasions had gotten herself into the simply terrifying event of meeting children that just so happened to have been adopted, and their birth mother just so happened to be a Ms. Patsy Knott Prey.

    “Yes Mother, I’m in here!”

    Ms. Patsy Isa Prey was the exact opposite of her mother. She was never one to be looked on as a beauty nor as bright as a light bulb (although she did not make herself aware of either of these two unpleasant facts). Besides, her Mother had wonderful things to tell her! They were all true, and no matter how cold her Mother sounded, she knew best.

    “Now dear, I think you should try this on.” Throwing a black dress over to Patsy, Ms. Prey stood idly by as her daughter changed into the dress. It was long and sleeveless, with tight-fitting material that accentuated the legs in a simply marvelous way. Ms. Prey cocked her head to the side as Patsy came out, swathed in the dress. Now, that was quite a nice dress, indeed! How could she have thought that her daughter would look good in such a pretty thing? It would be better suited on her…

    “Now goodness dear, take that thing off this instant! Oh, the windows are open! Hide, hide! Dear me, dear me, when did they open?”

    “Now Mother, windows do not open themselves!”

    “Yes dear, I realize that, but I am absolutely certain I was not the one to open them. You did, dear, your memory must be getting a little fuzzy, and that is all. It’s all of the extra weight your head has to carry, dear.”

    “Now Mother, I don’t think that could be true-“

    “Now, now dear, I am right. Have you been taking the pills I gave to you like I told you to?”

    Smiling sheepishly up at her Mother, Patsy shook her head slowly. Indeed, she had not been taking the pills. She thought she looked all right, after all.

    “Dear, how many time do I have to tell you, those pills will make you a better person? It will fix all of your problems!” And Ms. Prey’s problems, for that matter.

    "Sorry Mother, I just think I’m okay, you know?”

    “Well dear, you are obviously confused. Maybe I should call in your old therapist?”

    Sighing, Patsy tilted her head to the side, a light smile playing across her lips. Her mother was right, of course.

    “Yes Mother, I guess I will take them. I forget where I put them though, can you check in the kitchen cabinets for me?” Ms. Prey sauntered into the kitchen, barely making a noise. Patsy turned herself in the floor-length mirror one last time. It looked pretty nice on her, she thought. Her mom saw something she didn’t though, and that was enough to get her to pull the dress off. But, she found that her hand slipped a little, right on top of the tag. Looking down with a momentary feeling of guilt, Patsy Isa Prey memorized the designer, so she could buy it for herself one day and keep it.