It is strange. Of all the places I wear the red tutu the most, it is in the bath or by the sea. My ghost prefers to be near water. Perhaps the translucency, baring the skin and bones of all who venture in, helps it feel less alone. Or it sways in the coastal breeze and beneath the extractor fan, anticipating the sweet relief of leaving this world. The red tutu shimmers best underwater. I imagine it has sequins or it is a mermaid tail; and for a fleeting moment I feel beautiful. A flight of fancy I suppose. Or the final form I endeavour to embody someday. Everything will be red; her hair, her cheeks, her scales and her bath water skin. She will have a pearly white grin and hands which reach hungrily for the dappled sunlight at the surface. She will be an expert swimmer and will no longer tread water. She’ll float. She’ll dive; headfirst, into life.
The last of the red tutu series for now:
© Kristiana Reed 2018