The morning sun shone through a storefront window of a small, high-end dress shop in Upper East Side, Manhattan. Above the entryway hung a wide blue awning which had been extended quite far, as a block, but it couldn't keep the glare out that reflected off the many beautiful things inside on display.
Two long velvet curtains hung behind a counter area to separate it from the back of the shop and through them a woman emerged with her hands full of next season's belts and scarves.
She had green eyes and straight black hair cut shoulder length. She was thin and sleek in her white blouse and black pants and was of average height. Her name was Sophia Patterson.
When she turned nineteen, she left Maine and moved to Morningside Heights to live with her father's sister, Rose, in her old Brownstone. It was located in the Upper West Side between Central Park and the East River.
Rose was a retired actress and the photographs on the walls portrayed her youthful beauty. Her house was filled with antiques that she had once bought new. Her eyes beamed with joy that would embrace you and hold you there.
Her career did not bring great fame or fortune but she easily started an acting school with moderate success. She encouraged Sophia who wanted to learn the art like her.
Sophia and Rose enjoyed being artists, and as their bond steadily grew they would share insights and experiences with candor, laughter and tears.
They loved sitting on their living room balcony in the evening to talk while sipping on tea with an occasional side of cognac. It had turned into a casual ritual; a treasured bridge into the others heart.
One such night, Rose looked into Sophia's eyes and said, "Every character I've ever played was an expansion of my own life. Each one was an archetype; a symbol of a realm of illusion and dreams. I would ponder my own existence to the depth as a seeker. Upon self-reflection, sometimes, I would feel an inner emptiness which made me desire even more understanding. Conformity was never the answer to this feeling but looking for truth was, if there be any."
With a nod Sophia replied, "Perhaps the truth lies beyond the five senses. And the inner emptiness you feel is universal; a sign that we are all seekers whether we know it or not. Maybe one could consider life a realm of illusion and dreams. I know I do."
Across the street was a very old, well lit, ten-story hotel. And from where they sat they had a perfect view of the party goers arriving. The cars kept pulling up one after the other and parking attendants scrambled to greet the well-dressed guests.
"I know I've told you this before but I really like to watch the people arrive; wearing their finery and driving their fancy cars. I find it quite entertaining. I've seen a lot of actors and dignitaries frequent there throughout the years." Rose said with a smile.
"They have a little theatre inside and my boyfriend Roger and I would have dinner and then enjoy a play after. It was marvelous until he passed away suddenly and your company has been a comfort after losing him."
With tear filled eyes, and a heavy sigh, she said, "Objectively, I don't regret any thing I've done. There are a couple of things I've learned though. One is to appreciate the love I have experienced, and the other is to enjoy my own company."
"As I approach life's end, I accept maybe I'll vanish into nothingness, but, if so, to me life would make no sense. I still talk with Roger in my dreams. It's all so vivid and real. He says he misses me and will be waiting for me in a place that's indescribably beautiful."
Rose reached in her blouse pocket and pulled out a kerchief to dry her eyes.
"Auntie, I have a recurring dream too where I belonged to someone that I no longer love and they want me back. It's troubling."
"Tomorrow I have an audition at The Golden Theatre. She stood up and offered Rose her hand.
"Oh yes, it's on 45th Street. I do wish you luck dear." Rose said sleepily.
Rose went to the kitchen with the tray and Sophia locked the doors. The house went dark from the downstairs, and then the upstairs lights went out.
The next morning Sophia took a shower; dried her hair and dressed. Put on some earrings and slipped on her shoes. After giving herself a once over in the mirror she walked downstairs to the kitchen to eat some oatmeal and to drink coffee with Rose.
As Rose rustled the newspaper, she said, "I called the taxi for you dear because I think it's best you leave early.
Twenty minutes later the taxi arrived and the two women hugged and wished the other a good day
After she closed the passenger door the driver asked, "Where to?"
"Forty-Fifth Street. The Golden Theatre, please."
YOU ARE READING
Protean Beings - Frequency Shifters
Science FictionSophia learns she was a queen, from a multidimensional world and another time, who killed her self. Because of this she finds herself at the center of a perilous struggle between worlds. The king of this world has pursued her through eternity and...
