THE HANDMAID'S TALE

by Margaret Atwood
all rights to text and characters mentioned belong to the author

"The carpet bends and goes down the front staircase and I go with it, one hand on the banister, once a tree, turned in another century, rubbed to a warm gloss...There's a grandfather clock in the hallway, which doles out time, and then the door to the motherly front sitting room with its fleshtones and hints...There remains a mirror, on the hall wall. If I turn my head so that the white wings framing my face direct my vision towards it, I can see it as I go down the stairs, round, convex, a pier glass, like the eye of a fish, and myself in it like a distorted shadow, a parody of something, some fairy-tale figure in a red cloak, descending towards a moment of carelessness that is the same as danger...At the bottom of the stairs there is a hat-and-umbrella stand, the bentwood kind, long rounded rungs of wood curving gently up into hooks shaped like the opening fronds of a fern. There are several umbrellas in it: black, for the Commander, blue, for the Commander's wife, and the one assigned to me, which is red."