Perspective

The Next Morning

I rolled over in my bed, looking outside at the sun, shinning through my window.

What a perfect day.

I sat up in my bed, and swung my legs over the edge, shuffling my feet in the slippers below.

I walked over the perfect, white vanity, sitting down at the impeccably clean mirror.

I picked up the hairbrush from the table, letting it run through my long, tangled snow white hair.

I place the hairbrush down neatly, and grab a hair-ribbon from a hook I have coming out of the mirror frame.

I twist my hair and turn it into a bun at the base of my head, twisting the hair-ribbon around it until it was secure around my hair.

I grab the hair spray from the tabletop and let it spray all over my hair, smoothing it out as I go, making sure no strays were missed.

I open the drawer placed perfectly in the middle of the vanity, and take out my make up, lining it up neatly onto the table top, in the order that I will be applying it in.

I put on all of my makeup, looking in the mirror to make sure it was all perfect.

Once everything was neatly put back into its place, I stood up, pushing the chair I had been sitting in back under the vanity.

I make my way to the kitchen and open the refrigerator, looking inside to see if there was anything to eat.

It's kind of bare. That's not perfect at all. Looks like I will have to go shopping today then. Better get dressed then.

I walk back to my room, and open up the closet.

I sift through all of the all-white clothes until I find a suitable, simple, perfect, white dress that ended just above my knees, with simple straps that laid on my shoulders, holding it up.

I pull on my pure white gloves, making sure there are not specs of dirt on them.

I walk to the door of my apartment, and sit at the step just before the door and slip on a simple, perfectly white pair of sandals, with a slight heel, giving my a bit of height.

I turn and grab my key, bag, and phone off of the table by the door, and open it, and locking the door behind me.

I walk down the sidewalk, making sure not to step on the cracks, lest I get bad luck.

About five minutes later I walk up to the local grocery store, and walk through the automatic doors, grabbing a clean cart.

I walk down the isles grabbing the items I need, when something bumps into me.

I turn, already angered, but cover it up.

There, stands a very muddy, young man, who turns, smiling apologetically, saying, "Damn Miss. S'rry 'bout that! Looks like I got a little bit o' mud on yer pretty dress!"

I take a deep breath, and put on a fake smile.

He made my dress imperfect. It's not perfect anymore. I must clean it. It must be perfect again. And it's all this man's fault. He is imperfect. I must fix that.

I smile at the man, almost in a flirty way, and say, "Oh that's fine! How about you treat me to some coffee in return?"

He grinned at me, "Sure! Let's just buy our things and I know this lil' coffee shop down the street, near my place. You could clean yerself up a bit too if ya wanted."

I smile small, strategically tilting my head down, and looking up through my lashes, giggling, "Sure? Sounds like a plan to me."

His grin widens as we start to walk towards the cashier.

As soon as he walks a little bit ahead, my smile drops, and I turn my head towards the part of my dress that he ruined.

I lick my finger, and rub at the mud on my dress, hoping to get ride of some of the mud, but only smearing it around more.

This only made me more mad.

Feeding my flames.

He made my day imperfect.

He must pay.

I could feel my temper rising.

I feel my extremely pale cheeks redden in anger.

I hold myself back though, for I must be patient for these things, or else I could attract attention to myself.

And that can't happen, because if it did, it would impede my progress in making this world pure and perfect.

Because everything must be perfect.