I am posting this story for Acrostic Only. The theme is bookmarks. If you are up for a challenge, check out the link for other exciting prompts.
Brave heart is wilting in black chiffon. The chocolate cream on her cake matches her dress. Pink frost is a yummy reminder of childhood. She tastes in front of an audience.
Oblivious to her younger self. Precocious babe with flirty pages. She sits in silence with a sly, little twinkle.
Olive vines are her headdress. She has slipped into white. Like a bird swept in light, she blows out the candles. Her birthday cake is more delightful in private.
Kissing herself in the mirror, she embraces the gray in her hair. She is drawn into mirrors of beauty. Her young self gazes at an old woman. Her selves united in chatter and singing.
Mind her wrinkles, her waning skin, lips, and fat. She sits in a pool of thoughts and laughs. The natives are restless. She can hear their heels clicking, their silhouettes glow in a room full of helium balloons.
Aligning old birthday cards and well wishes, warm memories flood her. They weep along her cheeks and well up in her bosom. Was she ready to face the future? Prepared to walk in the shadows of old age?
Rising towards the door, turning the knob, she found courage to breathe. Her fingers gently tug against her curls. Her palms rest upon her cheeks, neck, and down the sides of her dress.
Kindled by old friends, her belly is full and jubilant. The room is filled with laughter. The hours are delicious as chocolate cake. She lets fear dissipate in frosting and ice. It settles somewhere deep into her bones.
Signs would appear in the birthdays to come. Age would show its face. The hourglass of time would collapse like jagged, grainy crystals. But she placed a snapshot of her former self between the pages of life. Youth became her bookmark in the annals of time.