Lingerie

Hi everyone,

This is a short piece of fiction that I wrote and then I forgot what it was meant to lead into. So... there’s no actual story here, unfortunately. It’s just a snapshot of this character’s life.

I like the idea here, of someone alone in her bedroom slowly getting dressed. I really like the idea of being that relaxed and not having anywhere to be that means she’s rushing to throw clothes on and get out of the house.

However, I’m not particularly happy with the piece because I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen into the old trap of telling-not-showing.

That being the case, I would really appreciate some feedback. What does the piece make you feel? Bored? Intrigued? Like I’ve over-used the adjectives? Let me know!

Warning: wall of text. Sorry.

♥Nancy♬

Taking hold of both of the drawer knobs with perfectly manicured hands, she pulled the heavy drawer halfway open. To the untrained eye the contents of that top drawer might look like a jumbled mess. This was her drawer, though, and there was no one whose eye was better trained to survey its contents. She ran her hands over silky smooth satin, skimmed her fingertips across soft cotton and paused as she felt the netted texture of lace. She fondled red lace, her fingers light against the delicate fabric. She hooked one finger under an elastic waistband and then under a bra strap, pulling the matching set free of the other garments in the drawer. With a casual flick of her hand, the underwear landed gently on the nearby four-post bed. Outside the window, the leaves of a tall tree provided a filter for the morning sun. Despite the chill outside, the sunrise poured through the window and warmed the room in patches. She stretched, languid in the comfortable warmth. Before she brought her arms down out of the stretch she used one hand to squeeze open the clip on the top of her head, slowly extracting it from the mess of silken red hairs. She wandered across the room, her bare feet sinking into luxurious carpet, to place the polished wood hair clip neatly on a glass platter on her dressing table; her hair fell around her shoulders, big, loose curls tumbling with each step. As the morning sun rose higher in the sky, light fell over the dressing table. It refracted through a crystal bottle, scattering rainbows across the room. She looked down to see a splash of rainbow light on her hip. She touched the rainbow and felt her own alabaster skin under her fingertips.