That Day (3)

For Maria, who was about to turn six, simply fiddling with things in her hands was a form of learning.

I had her make masks as play and learning, too.

It was pure coincidence that the coming-of-age banquet was being held as a masquerade.

Objectively speaking, the mask Maria made was terribly shabby.

Everywhere I looked, people wore splendid, distinctive masks chosen to match their outfits. Most seemed carefully made to subtly show off their status.

By contrast, the mask I was wearing was just a white one that covered my nose, with various decorations Maria had stuck on however she pleased.

It looked pretty to me.

Maria had her own mother and a nanny, but in practice, I was probably something like a mother to her, too.

Still, there was no denying that my mask looked terribly shabby to anyone else.

Because of this shabby mask, more people than usual had been hitting on me today...