The Masked Stranger
Boys did technical drawing and girls did needlework. In my day, that’s how it was, end of. I sketched out a pattern, though, to make life easier. Father never allowed me out after dark, but the moon was bright when I hung them in the tree. It felt exciting, illicit. I can spot them, easy as anything, when I pass people in the street. Those fabrics are all the rage these days. Vintage, they call them. They were my dresses, when I was a girl. I quite enjoyed cutting them up. That’s the beauty of not throwing anything away, you never know what might come in handy.
The town’s changed since I last saw it. They say it’s strangely quiet, but it feels busy to me. I see my creations everywhere, keeping people safe. They wonder who’s making them.
I hide behind mine and no one can see me smiling.
Laura Tapper writes feel-good fiction and has stories, poetry and a serial published in The People’s Friend. She enjoys sewing and handicrafts of all kinds, but it was her husband’s creative face mask production which inspired this piece.
Follow Laura on Twitter – @LauraTapper93