Ruth: Reimagined

Fountain

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Fountain
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Held in Ruth's hand was an oval shaped, polished copper mirror crafted in Egypt. It wasn't a brilliant image, but her reflection was vivid and noticeable. Her dark eyes held no spark in them. She stared at them, mesmerized by the dull, dead look they held.

Is this what everyone around her saw?

She pulled a smile, it held only for a moment, till it faltered. Slowly, she smeared lightly on her lips, a special balm. Again, she kept staring back at her eyes in the reflection.

When she was satisfied with her appearance, she placed the mirror down on the dressing table, where she sat.

Delicately, she ironed the invisible creases of her white, sheath dress. It was also woven, on the hems, and edges with intricate, gold designs. The Moabites left nothing without a touch of gold.

It was given to her moments before by her mother. Adira knocked on the door, and even after Ruth beckoned for her to come in, there was a moment of hesitation. When she came in, she held in her hands a box.

Adira took notice of the number of dresses thrown over the bed, some spilling on the floor, and Ruth, who sat in the midst of the chaos, barely dressed.

"Did I come at the wrong time?" Adira asked, pausing at the door.

"No, mother, come in."

Adira nodded, and when she sat next to Ruth on the bed, a tense silence ensued. The echo of the slap Adira had given her came back in a harsh wave.

Ruth cleared her throat, uncertain of everything.

"Nothing feels right." Ruth broke the silence, glancing at her mother and then quickly looking away.

Adira stared back at the dresses splayed on the bed. One purple dress that glittered with gold caught Adira's eyes. She held a piece of its fabric, gesturing to Ruth.

"This one's quite beautiful."

Ruth shook her head, and Adira put the dress back.

"Is it because of who you're dressing for? Is that why it's hard to make a decision?"

Ruth knew she was referring to King Eglon and was surprised that for the first time since the King had shown interest towards Ruth, Adira spoke of him without judgment.

"No," Ruth answered, honestly. "It's not the person, simply what he said."

"What did he say?" Adira asked, an edge of concern in her voice.

"That I should dress completely like myself. Something that when I put on, it feels like me."

A silence.

"Why... does that matter?" Adira questioned.

"It doesn't." Ruth countered, pulling her knees up to her chest, her feet on the bed. "But it does."

Adira stared down at her daughter, confused.

Laying her head down, into her knees, Ruth spoke, softer. "Nothing feels like me anymore."