Choosing a Hat – Part 2
Perhaps a white hat, then. There seemed to be a perfect hat on the rack. She tried it on and looked in the mirror, tilting her head this way and then that. She thought it would do, but wasn’t interrupted by a cough. She looked up and Fran shook her head. Peering back in the mirror, she realized Fran was right. The white hat and blond hair turned her face into a featureless blob. It was as if she’d never lived. She couldn’t leave her husband and children with that thought. They did, after all, love her.
She turned away from the white rack and started towards the front window with the denim hat before she regained her path to the navy blue hat tree. There she found the covering to complete her funeral ensemble. The color matched her suit and framed her face nicely. She looked womanly without being matronly; pretty without being sexy.
Fran praised her purchase, noting it was the perfect hat for church and weddings. The hat was wrapped in tissue paper and slipped into a bag. She handed over her credit card. “Anything else?” Fran asked. And there it was – the question.
Was there a way out of the tunnel of gossamer bands that she’d tied with her own hands? Fran turned to swipe her card.
“Just a minute,” she said. She turned, crossed the room and grabbed the denim hat. Transaction complete, she picked up her bag, crushed the blue denim hat on her head and strode out the door.
The End
I’ve found that people view the ending as they view their own life — with hope or with sorrow. Which side did you see? Let me know!
Maureen says
Well, picking the second hat would signal a possible different choice… Leaving it up to the reader to decide which they liked.
Casey Dawes says
What do you like?
Grace Gerbrandt says
I thought she chose a different direction at the end, so I viewed it as hopeful.
Casey Dawes says
And you’re a really hopeful person, Grace! I’m with you. I’ve always believed she goes home and turns her life upside down to experience happiness and joy!
Rionna Morgan says
Aaahhh! There we have it. Hope of course. I am the hopeless romantic–I won’t watch, read, do–anything that doesn’t fall in line with Shakespeare’s “All’s Well That Ends Well”. True, very true, there are rocks, boulders even in life, but if one waits long enough they do become the beach where the ocean and sun meet and travel on together forever.
🙂 Rionna