Mariska


Juliusz Słowacki Theatre in Krakow, Poland.

Mariska was no one’s wife. She was no one’s mother. She wasn’t an inspiring cook or homemaker. She did not knit or sew, nor define herself by any trending motif or couture.

She wore the starched black uniform and crisp white apron of her chosen profession with humble pride. She brushed the lint from every coat with gracious dignity. She offered each gently perfumed hand towel with the deportment due a royal. And never- did she speak of what she saw or heard while in the performance of her duties.

She amassed few friends, and time had long since relieved her of any familial entanglements, but none of that could tarnish the existential feeling of accomplishment she experienced as she set the orange cone behind her nondescript gray sedan in the Employee of the Month Parking space and headed into the entrance of the Juliusz Słowacki Theatre– to attend the Ladies Lounge.

Photo Prompt courtesy of What Pegman Saw

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20 thoughts on “Mariska

  1. A very dignified ladies’ room attendant, perhaps bred for higher things? The phrase ” and time had long since relieved her of any familial entanglements, ” makes me wonder, ifperhapsAnastasia went to Poland. Can you tell Ive been watching The Romanoffs?😊

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Truly great character study. Love how it opens telling us who Mariska is by telling us who she is NOT. In the next paragraph, the carefully chosen imagery help us to “see” her as the picture becomes more clear. There is so much angst woven into the line “time had long since relieved her of any familial entanglements”. Love how she gets the recognition she deserves in the end.

    Liked by 2 people

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