1/21/12

Swan Princess
By Linda M. Crate


People had their obsessions and their fetishes. Some were normal, others were a little absurd. One of the things she enjoyed were swans. She had swan dresses, earrings, necklaces, high heels, lamps, and the like. She had told people her name ought to have been Odette. Some people got the reference right away and laughed, but most people just gave her a blank stare. It was clear that not everyone got the Swan Princess reference.

She was twenty eight years old and still single.

Her mother told her that maybe if she didn’t dress so eccentrically she might find a date or maybe if she got a more competitive job than a librarian she might be able to snag someone in by the lure of money. She knew that her mother was desperate for grandchildren so she didn’t hold it against her, but she thought the right man would come at the right time. She wasn’t so eager to get on the fast track to love. Especially not after her best friend Ginny had divorced her husband Gregory three weeks ago. It was because of torrid affair that he had with Ginny’s sister Gayle.

She could not imagine not being able to trust one’s sister. It was times like these that she thanked her lucky stars that she was an only child. She could not imagine being in Ginny’s position.

It would be hard enough to get over the fact that someone cheated on them without the added bonus of that person being a relative. She shook her head. Valerie was just pleased that she didn’t have any siblings. She had no sister that could wrench the silver lining from her clouds.

She found herself with a nose caught in a book at the coffee shop when a handsome stranger bumped into her. “Oh, sorry,” she apologized, frowning. He had almost tripped over one of her bags.

“I bump into you, and you apologize?” he laughed, a humourous twinkle in his brown eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see the lovely creature behind the book.”

She found herself blushing profusely. “Oh stop it,” she laughed. “Shameless flirt!”

“I am not,” he protested, grinning. “I really happen to like you, Odette,” he winked.

She found her heart melting. A man that actually would understand her Odette jokes and make them with her? She heard her mother’s voice in her head telling her to marry him now. Trying to ignore this, she smiled. “What is it that you like about this swan?” she asked, batting her lashes sweetly. She pulled a strand of curly blonde hair from her green eyes.

“I like that you have your own sense of fashion. It’s nice to see a woman that doesn’t listen to the fashion tips of Vogue.”

She laughed, not knowing if that were a compliment or an insult. She would take it as a compliment unless told otherwise. “Well, thank you, I think.”

He laughed.

“You have very handsome eyes,” she told him.

“Not as pretty as yours, but I think your best feature is your smile. I’ve seen you here for several weeks, and I’ve come to a decision —.”

“What’s that?” she interjected.

“You don’t smile enough,” he informed her.

She laughed. “You have a remedy for that, I suppose?”

“I do,” he nodded. He leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss on her lips, gentler than the petals of a rose, but just as sweet. “Are you free tonight?” he asked. “I would like to see you again, but I have to get to work.”

She smiled. “Yes, I’m free tonight, where would you like to meet?”

“That old Italian restaurant on Davenport suit your fancy?”

“That sounds lovely,” she agreed. She tried to restrain some of the contained joy that had bottled up inside of her. “What time?”

“Six?”

“That sounds perfect, if I’m a little behind it’ll be because I’m closing up the library. I shouldn’t be running too late, though.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Swan Princess.”

She laughed. “All right, Prince Derek,” she teased, waving him goodbye. As soon as he had stopped waving at her and was out of sight, she pulled out her phone. “Mom, you won’t believe this. . . no, I didn’t quite my job as head librarian.” She rolled her eyes at her mother’s persistence to get her to do something more ‘worthwhile’. “I have a date tonight at six. No, mom, I’m not going to change everything about my appearance. He happens to like me just the way that I am.” After a few more moments of conversing, she hung up her phone, feeling relieved. Sometimes talking to her mother was simply strenuous. She had a feeling, however, that today was going to be a good day.


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Linda Crate is a Pennsylvanian native born in Pittsburgh yet raised in the rural town of Conneautville. Her poetry has recently been featured in Magic Cat Press, Black-Listed Magazine, Bigger Stones, and Vintage Poetry. One of her short stories has been featured in Carnage Conservatory and she has an upcoming short story for publication in Dark Gothic Reconstructed Magazine in April 2012.