Not the purple pair

Text C: an original fiction extract.

I had prepared for Mum's new glasses by collecting photographs of unusual frames. She wore bright scarves, painted our front door orange and laughed more loudly than anybody else at family meals. When she asked me to come to the shop, I assumed she wanted an audience for another bold decision. I sent her a picture of a purple pair and wrote, These are definitely you.

At the shop, I put the purple frames beside a green pair with pointed corners. Mum tried them both, and I took photographs while she looked in the mirror. I sent the pictures to our family group with her agreement. Replies arrived quickly. My aunt chose green; my brother said purple made her look like somebody who had good stories. Mum read that one twice, then placed both pairs on the counter.

The assistant brought several plainer options. I thought she had misunderstood the customer and explained that Mum was not really a plain-frames person. Mum was already trying on a narrow brown pair. She turned her head, smiled slightly and asked whether they seemed too quiet. I told her that nobody would notice them. She said perhaps that would be comfortable.

I began listing the things which proved she preferred colour. The front door, the scarves, the enormous yellow bag she had bought on holiday. She listened while looking down at the brown frames in her hand. Then she asked whether buying a yellow bag meant agreeing to carry one forever. I laughed because it was a good sentence. She did not join in immediately.

We sat at a small table while the assistant checked which choices were available. Mum explained that she liked her bright things, but disliked being expected to make the same sort of announcement every time she chose something. Sometimes she wanted to put on her glasses and read the paper without feeling that her face had become the room's next conversation. She was not asking permission to become somebody else. She wanted one decision to remain a decision.

I looked at the photographs on my phone. In each, I had asked her to make a funny expression. The purple pair seemed full of personality partly because I had supplied the same exaggerated smile three times. I asked whether she wanted a photograph of the brown ones. This time she stood normally. When I showed her, she asked me to keep it rather than send it for another vote.

The assistant returned. Mum chose the brown frames after checking the ordinary practical details with her. I put my phone away. On the walk home, we passed a stall selling wildly patterned scarves. Mum stopped and bought one. I nearly said that this was more like her, then heard the small trap in the compliment.

At home, my brother asked which pair had won. Mum told him there had not been a competition. She put the new scarf over a chair and went to make tea. Later, I changed the caption beneath the first photograph in my phone. Instead of Definitely Mum, I wrote One possibility. The brown-frame picture remained beside it, unsent.

You are the narrator. Write your journal entry that evening, reflecting on the visit to choose your mother’s glasses.

In your response:

• describe your expectations and how you tried to influence the choice
• explain what your mother revealed and how your understanding changed
• reflect on the photographs and how you might approach future choices together

Base your response on Text C, developing its ideas in your own words. Write about 250 to 300 words. Up to 10 marks are available for reading and up to 10 marks for writing.