Lucky #13

She believed in mystery.

Every little while in her life she just expected that something reeking of mystery would happen. About once a months she would begin to search for it in her every day life.

Mystery, after all, kept it from being the dull life that it really was.

After all, there isn't anything interesting about her life at all. She had to create mystery of her own.

Dull is the word of the day when it comes to describing her life. Mom, wife, middle age, middle class, middle America...blah, blah, blah. She may as well be beige like her walls and carpets and cars. She's living in mom jeans and pony tails. Hasn't done her nails in years.

She knows as well as everyone else that there's nothing even interesting about being a wife or being a mom. At least not in her world. There's no one famous or rich. There's no one even noticing if she's coming or going.

Now, she's not a loner or a recluse, but just your typical mom. Going back and forth to the markets to complete the errands. Back and forth to the schools and lessons and practice fields. People notice if she stays away too long or if she somehow calls too much attention to herself, but she's learned her lessons and doesn't play that game anymore.

She's committed to being dull. Playing along and not rocking the boat.

But it gets to her.

The staggering weight of being dull.

So in her mind, when she's traveling down the road, music just a little bit too loud on the car stereo, she's creating a mystery.

Maybe it begins while she's at the gas station buying some cigs, cause you know she doesn't smoke. Good girls don't play like that. Nice girls don't smoke. Especially not her. She would never be "caught" being bad.

But I tell you, there are days she longs for nothing more than to shock the neighbors by standing out on her front porch and lighting up. She wants to take the one long drag and feel it release the stress of the boredom of her days.

She lets her mind wander again. This time someone, a known stranger from her past arrives unexpectedly at her door. She is greeted with a warmth that only exists in her fantasy. No one in real life cherishes her like that.

Again her mind goes off. This time she is free. She doesn't know how it happened, but she is free. She is beautiful. She likes how she looks. She is happy with who she is. The details are fuzzy, but yet the feeling is so very real.