The Christmas redemption of Miss Lillian Brown

Chapter 9 balance

Lillian sat on the bed, a golden woman appeared before Lillian. She was like a goddess her hair draped to her glowing neck and was a in pure gold braid. She wore a silver robe and had golden veins running along her glowing, chocolate face. Her eyes glowed like the sun and her skin was as radiant as the moon itself, she bore a set of scales perfectly balanced.

"Lead me were you wish" the goddess scales span round violently. The two ended up in a room were Lillian was sat at a desk outside of a glass door Ed office. The smell of cigarettes flooded the air and Lillian looked withered and tired as if something had taken her spirit.

"Queen, is this to be my reality if I work?!"

"This is but a different choice that you could have made" she puffed like air

Lillian observed, the woman sat writing papers her fingers blistered with friction from her overworked fist.

"Lillian!" A man's voice called out, he opened the office door. He was older than Lillian, evidently. His brown hair was now turning grey at the roots and although his face was shaved it was beginning to wrinkle with wear and age.

"Come into my office for a chat please"

Lillian needn't guess what was about to happen to herself. Lillian looked over to the man, tired and looking as if she was about to sob like an abandoned infant and followed him. The image was sprinkled into the next scenario.

Lillian sat at a desk, she had a large collection of red, leather bound books. It was late at night, Lillian was counting the books in piles then putting them in boxes. One large fire lit the room but Lillian was alone in her task.

Lillian put one over to one side of the table and looked at a small picture of a boy on the table, he wore a navy uniform but Lillian knew him not. The Lillian sat at the desk swooned over the photo for a moment or two before slamming it down carelessly on the desk.

The gold dust engulfed the room once again and finally the two sat in a large living room with soz children and Lillian in the centre tired and worn. W picture of half broken dreams the children were sweet but loud and noisy each one pinning at Lillian while her husband - whoever he was - was no where to be found. Each of the children played joyful with their little toys however Lillian remained unhappy in sense.

The final scene of dust was cast before her. She was alone in a house, her house. She was entirely alone now not one soul but her sat by the pine, green tree. The fire roared and her desk was exactly how she loved it to be, but the sight was sad. She was alone after all.
"Tell me, is this what is to become of my Christmas"

The goodness spoke not, she looked back at Lillian who sat weeping at her sad, solitary life.

She span the scales frantically, no scene appearing merely voices and cries and screams and yells and laughs and infants all muttering in her head never stopping never never never!

The silence fell upon her once more, something was finally familiar.