DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Black Flames, whole no. 1, January 1946

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Black Flames, whole no. 1, January 1946

Page 17

cosmetics and threw them into the trash barrel. First, the face powder went; the box flew open and the powder sifted out into the air like snow filtering down. Then the lipstick and then the flask of perfume, which broke into a thousand fragments, and last of all, the facial cream. This last didn't break, but just landed with a loud 'thud'. I rushed to my room in an unreasoning fury, and locked myself in. Then, I cried and cried until I thought my heart would break. It was too utterly humiliating, a girl of my age being denied the use of a few harmless cosmetics at the mere whim of an overbearing aunt and uncle.

"I must have fallen asleep in utter exhaustion. I remember awakening about 11:45. The house was silent. My aunt and uncle always retired promptly at 9:00 anyway. I was in a defiant mood. Cautiously, I stole downstairs to the trash barrel.

"The Spicy fragrance of the spilled perfume assailed my nostrils as I groped among the broken bits of glass. It was hopeless to salvage the face powder. The box had burst, and its contents were scattered to the four winds. I couldn't find the lipstick in the darkness, but my hands closed about a familiar jar--the facial cream. I remembered that it hadn't broken when it landed in the trash barrel. Hastily, I tucked it beneath my arm and whisked stealthily upstairs. Once there, I carefully locked the door, turned on the desk lamp, and in its suffused glow began methodically to rub the contents of the jar upon my face. I was in that sort of unreasonable, irrational mood when one makes all sorts of foolhardy, impractical resolutions. With every motion of my hand I thought, 'I'll show them! They can't boss me!' In fact, I firmly resolved to run away the very next day. Life was becoming too unbearable for me.

"In the distance, I heard a town clock boom out the hour of midnight. My 'facial' completed, I walked to the mirror to satisfy my vanity visually. But the sight that met my eyes when I gazed into the looking glass left me limp with terror, I had no face! My hair was visible, and the rest of my body, but my face and neck were simply non-existent!

"Gingerly, I felt the seemingly invisible part of me. It was still there, really--I could feel it, but I couldn't see it. And yet, I knew that I wasn't partially blinded because I could see all the other objects in the room with the utmost clarity. And then I noticed that a portion of my hands was invisible too--just the fingertips--the part that had come into contact with the facial cream.

"A wild, fantastic idea was beginning to take form in my brain. I glanced at the label on the jar. 'VANISHING CREAM', it read. And hadn't the saleswoman said something about my being surprised how the proper use of cosmetics might change my entire life?

Saving...

cosmetics and threw them into the trash barrel. First, the face powder went; the box flew open and the powder sifted out into the air like snow filtering down. Then the lipstick and then the flask of perfume, which broke into a thousand fragments, and last of all, the facial cream. This last didn't break, but just landed with a loud 'thud'. I rushed to my room in an unreasoning fury, and locked myself in. Then, I cried and cried until I thought my heart would break. It was too utterly humiliating, a girl of my age being denied the use of a few harmless cosmetics at the mere whim of an overbearing aunt and uncle. "I must have fallen asleep in utter exhaustion. I remember awakening about 11:45. The house was silent. My aunt and uncle always retired promptly at 9:00 anyway. I was in a defiant mood. Cautiously, I stole downstairs to the trash barrel. "The Spicy fragrance of the spilled perfume assailed my nostrils as I groped among the broken bits of glass. It was hopeless to salvage the face powder. The box had burst, and its contents were scattered to the four winds. I couldn't find the lipstick in the darkness, but my hands closed about a familiar jar--the facial cream. I remembered that it hadn't broken when it landed in the trash barrel. Hastily, I tucked it beneath my arm and whisked stealthily upstairs. Once there, I carefully locked the door, turned on the desk lamp, and in its suffused glow began methodically to rub the contents of the jar upon my face. I was in that sort of unreasonable, irrational mood when one makes all sorts of foolhardy, impractical resolutions. With every motion of my hand I thought, 'I'll show them! They can't boss me!' In fact, I firmly resolved to run away the very next day. Life was becoming too unbearable for me. "In the distance, I heard a town clock boom out the hour of midnight. My 'facial' completed, I walked to the mirror to satisfy my vanity visually. But the sight that met my eyes when I gazed into the looking glass left me limp with terror, I had no face! My hair was visible, and the rest of my body, but my face and neck were simply non-existent! "Gingerly, I felt the seemingly invisible part of me. It was still there, really--I could feel it, but I couldn't see it. And yet, I knew that I wasn't partially blinded because I could see all the other objects in the room with the utmost clarity. And then I noticed that a portion of my hands was invisible too--just the fingertips--the part that had come into contact with the facial cream. "A wild, fantastic idea was beginning to take form in my brain. I glanced at the label on the jar. 'VANISHING CREAM', it read. And hadn't the saleswoman said something about my being surprised how the proper use of cosmetics might change my entire life?