Personal Narrative: My Coco Mademoiselles

Reveling in the diversity of my unusual trio, I turned to Chloe, the effervescent one. An unremitting source of joy, Chloe was always quick with a smile and the encouraging words necessary to keep us together. As she bounced on the arm of Dorothea’s sofa to music only she could hear; Chloe kicked the air, her bare feet clearing the floor by several inches. Almost immediately, a mystical blend of resinous amber, spicy ginger and citrusy bergamot filled the air, easily overpowering Dorothea’s synthetic floral air freshener. While not as sophisticated as my Coco Mademoiselle, I didn’t find Chloe’s exotic fragrance olfactorily offensive.
Voluminous, shiny, and comparable to the Red Sand Beach of Maui, Chloe’s springy curls tumbled down her neck and framed her face in the most adorable fashion. Her bouncy spirals danced around her dimpled cheeks as her short, shapely legs continued to swing. Though too polite to ask, I knew her fawn complexion with warm coral undertones was the product of her multiracial heritage. However, with her skin’s strong semblance to southwestern

Only Chloe. Unlike the rest of us, she didn’t throw a tantrum when she didn 't understand the world. At some point, her maturity had surpassed mine and she accepted that even though the world was fraught with corruption, moral lasciviousness and injustice, she didn’t have to be. Chloe possessed a simple wisdom. She refused to live within the fabricated boxes society had manufactured, and somehow succeeded. After spending three years with her, I honestly believed that her brain didn’t run in tralatitious, collinear patterns. She freely pursued any thought in any direction she pleased. Though her life and mine charted different courses, I appreciated her ability to paint the colors of life without a brush and without the fear of getting