Belinda sank into the parlor loveseat with a happy squeal. Just moments ago, that pompous Mortimer Witherspoon had come courting and announced himself with the biggest box of chocolates known to mankind. When Belinda lifted the lid to peep at its contents, she'd inhaled sharply. The candies were exquisite! Each bon bon nestled in a pink paper cup with gold trim and was adorned with a tableau etched into its sides. This one was the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet. This one was a tribute to the Taj Mahal. But nothing compared to the little chocolate birdcage containing a teensy sugar bird which cocked its head at Belinda and winked!
Belinda could hardly bring herself to close the box and face the harsh dose of reality presented in the form of Mortimer Witherspoon, that insufferable twit. He eyed her possessively, his thin lips pressed together like slices of luncheon meat, his ruddy cheeks bulging into jowels. And these were his finer features!
Belinda shuddered in spite of herself. What was she thinking, allowing this groping toad to take such liberties, to presume himself in such a revolting manner?! She closed her eyes and mentally recited the 23rd psalm as Witherspoon took her hand and pressed it to those coldcuts for lips.
"You may go now," said Belinda, turning to the window, unable to face her suitor.
The answer was obvious: the chocolates were to blame! They were enchanting, captivating, spellbinding! What else could account for her shocking lack of judgement and common sense?! Such heavenly morsels were worth almost any compromise, Belinda told herself wildly, now that Witherspoon had gone (and the funny odor with him) and she was free to gaze upon the pint-size chocolate gazebo with its pond of microscopic minnows, the tiny marzipan string quartet playing Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, the miniscule yet exact chocolate rendering of the Sistine Chapel.
Belinda caught sight of herself in the parlor mirror. She was flushed, breathing heavily, and a curl had escaped from her pretty blue ribbon. If there was ever such a thing as a crossroads in life, she was facing one now! A rich and beguiling smell wafted to her from the chocolate box, and Belinda felt herself salivate ever so slightly. No, no--this would not do! With trembling fingers and a faltering resolve, Belinda replaced the lid and rushed from the room lest she should change her mind and be lost forever to the strange yet undeniable powers of that twit Mortimer Witherspoon and his mesmerizing box of chocolates!
*******
Dear reader, I just realized that much of the fun of this Hundred Dresses project is the opportunity to send my little Tollipops out into the wide, wide world. With that in mind I'm announcing another giveaway, the first of 2009, the prize being copies of my two most recent girls, Tess and Belinda.
In order to enter this contest, you must simply leave a comment below. For those of you who enjoy a challenge, I always delight in hearing your ideas on what happens next to our dear heroine. But if you're in a rush and are shocked by how much time you've already spent reading this silly story, please merely keep it short and sweet!
In addition (and as per usual), if the winner is sent here via someone else, then that generous soul will be rewarded in kind.
I will leave the contest open until Monday afternoon of next week, then draw and announce the winner at that time. I'm sure Caroline will be of great assistance in the matter.
Until then, thank you so much for visiting Tollipop and playing along! I hope your week is lovely, your weekend even more so, and that a tempting morsel of chocolate (minus the twit) factors into your life between now and then.