the silver medalion
By Baker Street
She sat in front of her dressing table and looked into the oval mirror. She was good-looking, she knew, as she brushed her long dark hair. She brushed her hair for a long time while she sat looking into the mirror.
Then she laid the brush on the table in a small tray, and took out necklace from her jewellery-box. It was a musical box, and as she opened it and took out the necklace, a small ballerina started to dance inside it to the tune the box made. The little ballerina swirled around and around on her stand while the music played.
She took the necklace, on which hung a silver medallion, and looked at it a while. It was a plain, round silver medallion, and the only decoration it had was the name which was engraved on it; ‘Victoria’. She smiled to herself as she always did while she looked at it and read the name.
It had belonged to her grandmother, whose name had been Victoria. She had never known her grandmother, who had died long before she was born. Still she smiled to herself; almost as if she did remember this unknown grandmother somehow. By know the ballerina in the box had un-wound, and had stopped dancing and playing music.
Then she put the necklace with the medallion around her neck, and shook out her long black hair. She smiled again, and then she took up the brush and started brushing her long hair once more…