Mrs. Ashborough was there

A woman is sitting in front of a mirror in some venue’s dressing room. Tonight will be a night like no other, she ponders in anticipation, it is his birthday after all.

She intuits that it is going to be quite something, but she is not sure how things will play out. Of course, she has done some preparation, but the spontaneous element to this occasion is important to her. Improvisation and courage are her friends for life, why do you think she has come this far? Absolutely, she’ll know what to do on ‘le moment suprême’ and it will be great.

She grants the mirror a frisky smile, then lets her mind drift off and her movements become robotic. It’s OK though, no need to give this routine any thought. That what needs to be done in front of this mirror, she has done a million times before.

She puts hot rollers in her hair, dabs super-matte cake foundation on her cheeks and forehead and applies a thick layer of black mascara on the false lashes she glued on earlier that day. The finishing touch is a dash of her famous red hot lipstick on her lips. She wears this face like a costume and she has taken it to glam perfection; a look so distinctive yet imitated by millions of women all over the world.

With glassy eyes she gazes into the mirror in which a reasonably good looking woman has just morphed into the stunning, world-famous sex-bomb known as Marilyn Monroe.

Miranda knew they were in danger, but there was no way of backing out of it.

“One of us won’t make it, and that will probably be me..,” Marilyn said.