Baby Stared With the Bluest Eyes
Baby sat in her chair staring with the bluest eyes.
Her eyes were cerulean blue, the bluest. She stared with those cerulean eyes. She stared with the bluest eyes. They stood out against her delicate sculptured face which was an envious rose hue. Her lips were perfect, a flawless symmetrical red rosebud of a near smile. Her nose was delicate, ideally balanced, shaped and formed. Such a nose on an adult would have been the envy of many a female. Around her perfectly formed features was a halo of delicate blonde curls, always styled flawlessly. There was never a single strand of hair out of place. Her ears too, were small and delicate, like pure buds on a plant. Mother viewed her as a paragon of pure perfection.
Mother entered the room, a bustle and rustle of antique lace, culture and gentility. Her long elegant train glided over the carpet with a refined whisper.
Naturally, her mother fussed over her in a fastidious way, “My darling baby, how are you today? Neither too hot nor too cold, I hope. There’s a subtle freshness in the air, you must have another blanket.” Going to the linen closet, the mother took out the softest loveliest pinkest blanket- one of many. She delicately and lovingly wrapped it around Baby. “Darling, how the pink brings out the subtleties of your blue eyes. Surf blue.”
Baby stared with the bluest eyes.
The Mother left the room, quietly blowing a loving kiss to Baby. She closed the door with absolute care and precision. Not a sound was heard. The Mother could not abide noise of any description. The maids regarded her as a tyrant with her demands for silence and that certain parts of the house were most definitely off limits to them.
Mother entered the room. Mother left the room. No one else entered.
Mother smiled, “Baby you are so lovely!”
Baby stared with the bluest eyes. She stared with glass eyes in a porcelain face on a porcelain body.
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleMother truly did love her baby, Margarida. The twist at the end of the story made me feel quite sad for her. It made me wonder if the maids knew what was going on? Well done
I agree with what you just said, Carrie. I was about to post something similar but you worded it best. ? I also wondered if the maids knew what was going on.
This is a great story, Margarida!
Thank you for your feedback, Melissa. I never felt sympathy for the Mother perhaps because of where the story initiated from. Oddly enough while I was volunteering in a charity store, I asked what was among the oddest things that were donated. One answer was a doll that was addressed like a real child. The strange answer inspired this story.
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleThank you for your comments, Miss Carrie. The Mother is a little off kilter; it is a shame that she is disillusioned and wastes her love. Perhaps the maids were suspicious, but being towards the bottom of the rung, were diplomatic enough not to question their mistress’ oddities.
This is a very touching story, Margarida. I do think we can learn about love in a myriad of ways, not just with other human beings. I feel great compassion for the Mother. There could be dozens of reasons why she doesn’t have other humans to love. And maybe the maids know her well enough to also feel compassion for her. A story that makes the reader think, and explore his/her own… Read more »
Thank you Miss Julie, for your comments. The Mother is a sad creature and wanting our pity. Glad that my story garners so many questions and is thought provoking.
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleOh, Margarida. I was so moved and touched by your story. A mother’s love is priceless and boundless. Well done.
Lotchie, indeed a Mother’s love is “priceless and boundless”, but the protagonist’s was misplaced. She could have enriched the lives of others.
Your story certainly raises many questions Margarida. My take on it is that the poor mother has lost her own baby but her mind is unable to accept it. As for the reason she demands silence, could it be because she was unable to save her baby because she didn’t hear her cries? I could be totally wrong but your story has my imagination in overdrive! Beautifully written and one that keeps… Read more »
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleLinda, so glad that my story has stimulated your imagination. This flash fiction is truly a little enigmatic. Working in a doll factory sounds a little unsettling for me, but I am sure that your mother brought a lot of joy to children.
A good story with a lovely composition to it. I have just looked up some pictures of the modern day hyperrealistic dolls that people collect, and that is in addition to their uses in care homes. One thing I notice is that even without the hard porcelain their ‘bluest eyes’ still stare!