The sisters creep up on Halloween

Among their multiple imaginary personas.  Photo found here.

(For those of you who saw the earlier version of this post, I've changed illustrations.  I presumed to borrow another artist's work, which had inspired the story, and did so without her blessing.  She was enormously gracious about the whole thing.)

Referred to by their mother as Ambulancia and Sireena, these two unquiet children began the holy hell of costume planning weeks before Halloween.  Negotiations, if they could be called that, did not go smoothly.

They were a one-tiara family and Ambulancia, as the elder sister, claimed the crown as hers.  Sireena retaliated by grabbing all the pastel tulle from deconstructed prom dresses, lashing it about her waist, not unlike Odysseus and the mast, refusing to untie it or share unless some detente could be reached about the rhinestone head piece.  The wailings they generated caused drivers to pull over and stop as they motored north on Fair Oaks Avenue, scanning rear view mirrors for emergency vehicles which never materialized.

Matters at school were no less fraught, the wearing of tiaras and ballooning net overskirts being unwelcome on any day that wasn't actually Halloween.  The sisters, stubborn eyes agleam, were sent home for the duration.  They seemed oddly jubilant.  Even victorious.  The unplanned holidays gave them uncommitted hours to squabble and plot.  To be continued.  Honest.