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Stacy watched in shock as the reflection in the glass played out like a
time-lapse video of herself, starting as an infant; then through her
chubby stage, before she started growing upwards; then as a teenager,
after she had finally lost most of her baby fat; then through her college
years, which come to think of she never really liked that look;
then slowly up to the present, where she recognized her current
self. But her body did not continue on the course she expected it to.
Instead, her body started going through every plastic surgery she could
possibly hope for. By the end of the video montage, Stacy knew the woman
in the mirror was exactly who she wanted to be physically.
Don't you see, my darling? You can be that woman. You will never have to be considered ugly again. And then the image started changing clothes. A red evening dress, a one-piece swimsuit, a dragon costume not unlike one she wore for Halloween when she was seven, finally a tight-fitting long black dress and a beautiful black pointed hat. Your intellect? What is intelligence anyway, except knowing what you don't know? Imagine, I can make you the second-most powerful mage in the world. What does being the most intelligent woman in the world matter, when you can't use any of your knowledge or wisdom? No, come with me and be my love, Stacy. The last line sounded familiar to Stacy, something she had once read for an English course in college. Shakespeare? No. Maybe Milton? Not something he would write about. Marlowe? Now it came back to her. Christopher Marlowe, "The Passionate Shepherd to His Love." How did it go? She could not remember past, "And we will some new pleasures prove." But what pleasures would be in store for her? She tried to remember another poem, Walter Raleigh's "The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd," but she could not remember how it went, only that it was written in response to that poem. Maybe if she could remember, she might think of a good response to Minestus. Come, my love. You have seen what I can give you. Come be with me, the most beautiful woman in the world. Helen's face launched a thousand ships, but yours will command them. As she made up her mind, Stacy saw the image of a snake curled up around the neck of her reflection, whispering things into her ear, but this was too little, too late. The power and beauty the mage offered was too much. She would be tempted, and she would not resist.
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11/28/2005 6:12:11 PM
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