Victoria’s Secret

Victoria’s Secret
     by ????
Victoria had seen this before.  Her mum in a fit that she refuses the advances of the “gentlement” hand picked by her.  Ronald-well-to-do whom she KNOWS is going to lose his hair long before he should.  Gentry-ohhhh what wasn’t wrong about the man that looks like a boy dressed up in his father’s clothing.  Gerald-quite wealthy thanks to his father and promises the world but has the charm of a snail.  No…………..Victoria wants to marry for love.
— 
As Victoria dresses  behind her screen, her mother continues on.  “I don’t know what all of your fuss is about,  Victoria.  You need to find a future for yourself.  You cannot continue to turn down every man we bring to you.”  Victoria was tiring of her monologue and steps out for her mother to tighten her corsett.  “Mother,” Victoria gasps as her mother tightens the corsett perhaps a bit too tight, “I want to marry a man I love, you know that.  I see no one here happy with arranged marriages as such.”  Her mother, exasperated, turned Victoria around and hissed, “You listen here, young miss.  Your father and I are not young.  We’ve lost your brother in the war and I need to know you will be well taken care of.  You will go to this party and you will entertain Richard.  Have I  made myself clear?”
Victoria, as fiery as her red hair, lifted her chin defiantly and said, “Yes mother, i will go to the party.”  Victoria turned away from her mother and lifted the lid of her music box.  The door closed, not gently.  Victoria quickly shut the lid as she heard a bird call she knew so well.  Quickly putting on her dress, she ran to the window.  Across the yard behind the tree, he was there.  Tall, handsome, eyes that burned for her attention.  Victoria, I will look for you tonight.  You are radiant my love.  Victoria turned to make sure her door was closed and put her finger to her mouth since her mother was not far away.  Blowing a kiss to Michael, she turned to the mirror.  
Oh how she loves this dress.  The cream with the blue lace and trim suited her well.  “Yes,” she thought, “I said I would go.  I didn’t promise I would entertain Richard.”  Victoria pretended to dance all the way to her door as she made her way downstairs and to the carriage.
The music was gay yet Victoria felt stifled and ill at all of the pretending and snobbery.  Richard approaches Victoria and her mother eyed her with a look that was threatening.  Victoria put on her best “i’ll-put-up-with-you” smile and her mom walked away.  “You’re looking qutie fine, Victoria,” she hear Richard say.  He held out his arm for her to take.  Victoria took his arms and walked a few steps.  “Yes, Richard, I am doing much better.  The doctor said I should be fine now minus the fact that I will never be able to have children.”  Richard stopped short, “unaware” that Victoria had a “problem”.  He excused himself and walked out the door.  Victoria, quite pleased, ran to the balcony and heard a bird call.  That “bird” is out there.  Victoria rushed to the steps to enter the garden.  She shall find  this bird………….

Victoria gets the bird in the end.

_________________________________________________________________________

I went looking for an internet picture of a Victoria that I could borrow, and wound up with so many pictures of models in their underwear that I just couldn’t stop myself from having a little fun with this story.  I didn’t change a word of the story, but I added the pictures and changed the title from Victoria to Victoria’s Secret.  The heroine definitely has a secret.

Would you believe that people send me stories and then think I’ll remember where they came from a month later?  In this case, I don’t remember.  It’s  a fine little story though.  I’m reading it a bit cynically.  Read it like an optomist and it has a whole different meaning.

I was going to  do Every Picture Tells a Story: 3 today, but I saw Victoria languishing in inventory and decided to publish it.  Still, here’s a sneak preview of the next great Greywulf render to be ;used as a story starter.  If you know me, just email me the story.  If you don’t know me, send your submissions to: Atrrroll@gmail.com.

They might be waiting for a bus.

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