Pricing Christmas Memories - Sharon Thompson
Sharon Thompson is a new member of the brilliant Imagine, Write, Inspire group by Carmel Harrington. She runs THE most beautiful and inspiring blog called Victoria's Blog and you can find the wonderful Sharon on Twitter.
Felicity fondles her antique vase and traces her hands over the contours of the bulbous body as if caressing her own ample curves.
Her blue eyes are taking nibbling glances at the handsome antique valuer at the stand at the door of the venue. The pop up stand behind him and his colleagues says, " TV's -The Real Deal. Queue here." The queue goes all the way back into the car park but it is moving slowly forward. Felicity is moving slowly forward with it marvelling at the sensible dowdy dress sense of the old dears around her.
No one seems to get passed this stand until the three male experts have examined all the items at a fair pace. People are turned away with their tat and others are let through to the ropped off area.
Felicity is almost there and she is teetering on her red very high heels which her mum would have told her were a bad idea. She is propped precariously on the ledge of a heavy table used for holding the refreshments now long gone due to the high volume of people who showed up to get on the tv show.
Felicity had grabbed the ornate old ceramic vase out of the 'to go to the charity shop box 'in the garage. It seems appropriate that she is attempting to get it on to a special Christmas edition of the show. It was her one purchase at auctions with her father and it was a Christmas present to her mother when she was ten. She was slightly put out that her dad had placed it out to go.
The wrapping of her vase was her woolly scarf but she has taken this off the vase as it is cold in the draft from the open doors of the hotel where the show is taking place. The huge ballroom seems to be sectioned off and the cameras and lighting are making everyone nearing the roped area nervous.
The smell of cinnamon and the Christmas lights add to the festive nature of the show even though it is only September. Felicity loves Christmas and she could have easily let her Christmas jumper stay on until December.
The reindeer on the front has its red nose just at the end of her ample bossom on the right and the tail ends at the other. The scarf now covers her well but she hopes her skinny jeans and red heels still scream sexy at this dark haired older man at the valuation table. The nibbles of glances are almost full blown stares as she nears the stand. Felicity removes one hand from her vase to tidy her blonde hair.
She is next in line to be examined by this expert. His hands are wonderful and sallow ( no wedding ring) with perfectly manicured nails. She cannot take her eyes though of his dark beautiful eyes as he beckons her forward. Is that lust she sees in them?
"Merry Christmas !" sings Felicity in a northern Irish lint at the dark eyes and perfect teeth. Ignoring her flirations the fabulous sallow hands, man handle her vase from her grasp and a low whistle which Felicity wishes was for her and not the vase, comes from his perfect teeth.
Nudging his colleague, he says, " Marcus what do you make of this beauty?" His hands are all over the vase as he rubs, looks at its bottom and caresses it, making Felicity jealous.
Marcus is suitably impressed as he leaves the stuffed animals in front of him to echo the low excited whistle made earlier. Neither man notices Felicity's newly styled hair or fancy make up. This dirty worn out vase has stolen the show.
" How long have you had this wee beauty?" asks the expert never taking his eyes off the vase. His hands continue their massage and Felicity feels agitated rather than excited.
"Years ago I bought it for my mum for Christmas, I was only a child," oozes Felicity still failing to get either man to look at her. The vase is placed back into her arms like a precious baby and neither men notice her at all.
"Let this lady through to the top section, it's going to be a Merry Christmas for her! Congratulations missie," says Marcus as he ushers Felicity along to the roped area.
Skittering forward in her heels while being almost pushed out of the way , it becomes apparent to Felicity that being young and pretty does not always make you desirable to some men.
Also sometimes lust and interest does not always come for youth and obvious beauty.
Joining the next queue Felicity wonders what is the next life lesson on this adventure. Possibly how to break it to your father that the vase he wished to get rid of to silence all the old memories, will possibly bring him back to sad memories of her mother at Christmas, in the most public way.
"How much do you think it is worth?" asks a strange bearded man at the table at the end of this queue.
" It holds the memories of many special Christmases from when I was ten years old," says a newly philosophical Felicity smiling sweetly into the camera.
" It's priceless then eh?" asks the bearded man sympathetically as the cameras roll. " Some things are not easy to sell at Christmas."
Felicity thinks of all she has learned today;- about Christmases gone by, about memories, the pit falls of being young, the real value of things and she says, " Well sure this is September, make me an offer ! "
Her blue eyes are taking nibbling glances at the handsome antique valuer at the stand at the door of the venue. The pop up stand behind him and his colleagues says, " TV's -The Real Deal. Queue here." The queue goes all the way back into the car park but it is moving slowly forward. Felicity is moving slowly forward with it marvelling at the sensible dowdy dress sense of the old dears around her.
No one seems to get passed this stand until the three male experts have examined all the items at a fair pace. People are turned away with their tat and others are let through to the ropped off area.
Felicity is almost there and she is teetering on her red very high heels which her mum would have told her were a bad idea. She is propped precariously on the ledge of a heavy table used for holding the refreshments now long gone due to the high volume of people who showed up to get on the tv show.
Felicity had grabbed the ornate old ceramic vase out of the 'to go to the charity shop box 'in the garage. It seems appropriate that she is attempting to get it on to a special Christmas edition of the show. It was her one purchase at auctions with her father and it was a Christmas present to her mother when she was ten. She was slightly put out that her dad had placed it out to go.
The wrapping of her vase was her woolly scarf but she has taken this off the vase as it is cold in the draft from the open doors of the hotel where the show is taking place. The huge ballroom seems to be sectioned off and the cameras and lighting are making everyone nearing the roped area nervous.
The smell of cinnamon and the Christmas lights add to the festive nature of the show even though it is only September. Felicity loves Christmas and she could have easily let her Christmas jumper stay on until December.
The reindeer on the front has its red nose just at the end of her ample bossom on the right and the tail ends at the other. The scarf now covers her well but she hopes her skinny jeans and red heels still scream sexy at this dark haired older man at the valuation table. The nibbles of glances are almost full blown stares as she nears the stand. Felicity removes one hand from her vase to tidy her blonde hair.
She is next in line to be examined by this expert. His hands are wonderful and sallow ( no wedding ring) with perfectly manicured nails. She cannot take her eyes though of his dark beautiful eyes as he beckons her forward. Is that lust she sees in them?
"Merry Christmas !" sings Felicity in a northern Irish lint at the dark eyes and perfect teeth. Ignoring her flirations the fabulous sallow hands, man handle her vase from her grasp and a low whistle which Felicity wishes was for her and not the vase, comes from his perfect teeth.
Nudging his colleague, he says, " Marcus what do you make of this beauty?" His hands are all over the vase as he rubs, looks at its bottom and caresses it, making Felicity jealous.
Marcus is suitably impressed as he leaves the stuffed animals in front of him to echo the low excited whistle made earlier. Neither man notices Felicity's newly styled hair or fancy make up. This dirty worn out vase has stolen the show.
" How long have you had this wee beauty?" asks the expert never taking his eyes off the vase. His hands continue their massage and Felicity feels agitated rather than excited.
"Years ago I bought it for my mum for Christmas, I was only a child," oozes Felicity still failing to get either man to look at her. The vase is placed back into her arms like a precious baby and neither men notice her at all.
"Let this lady through to the top section, it's going to be a Merry Christmas for her! Congratulations missie," says Marcus as he ushers Felicity along to the roped area.
Skittering forward in her heels while being almost pushed out of the way , it becomes apparent to Felicity that being young and pretty does not always make you desirable to some men.
Also sometimes lust and interest does not always come for youth and obvious beauty.
Joining the next queue Felicity wonders what is the next life lesson on this adventure. Possibly how to break it to your father that the vase he wished to get rid of to silence all the old memories, will possibly bring him back to sad memories of her mother at Christmas, in the most public way.
"How much do you think it is worth?" asks a strange bearded man at the table at the end of this queue.
" It holds the memories of many special Christmases from when I was ten years old," says a newly philosophical Felicity smiling sweetly into the camera.
" It's priceless then eh?" asks the bearded man sympathetically as the cameras roll. " Some things are not easy to sell at Christmas."
Felicity thinks of all she has learned today;- about Christmases gone by, about memories, the pit falls of being young, the real value of things and she says, " Well sure this is September, make me an offer ! "