A woman's vanity set, is her image to the world and her secret hiding place. Commonly throughout history, a woman would gather herself quietly in front her vanity, preparing for the order of her day. It is a place not only of personal creation and style but also a haven of hidden emotions.
Beautiful and sad, her vanity set is made of a willow that never weeps, though she does. She awoke again from a dream last night, and though she can't remember the details, she is all too aware of the painful sinking feeling that hits her gut every time she looks herself over in the mirror. When she dragged her bella figura physic out of bed this morning, she whispered to herself, "Make this day be better than the last one."
His fortress, she does what she can to pull him together. It's in the little things really, like waking up earlier than he does in order to prepare his clothing and make him a breakfast of congee and hot tea. That is, when he's in town. So often now, he's on the road and the reasons why she can't seem to reach him by phone never really seem to ad up. She loves him, everyday, she tells herself. But, at this very moment in her marriage she feels caught up in a whirlwind of things she never anticipated from that little line, "Til death do us part," She used to know him well. But recently, his mind is scattered, somewhere far off in a land she can't seem to penetrate.
Pausing in front of her reflexion this cold morning, she notices her long slender frame, attractive and firm. Where the others, the one's she sees him dancing with in his dreams are tasteless, tacky and have names like Natasha and Amy how slimy and lewd they appear in her memory now. Though eternally an optimist, she removes herself from all patronizing thought, instead attempting to focus on tonight's big event; the dinner party with the young couple down the lane. She plans to create the magnificent: braised duck and mother's own sauteed spinach, because every woman knows that a way to a man's heart is through his stomach. [Kristen Delaney]