William and Mabel saw things differently. William saw the 'pictures' in all things around. As all human folks did. To him, the waterfall looked like a waterfall. The sky and the sea looked like sky and sea. One could argue that William was normal. He was Ordinary.

Mabel didn't see the world as a picture. She saw it as nature wished to be seen. The waterfall was the water's longing to flow and occasionally fall. Sky, she never saw it alone. Sky to her just looked like an inverted sea. Together, the sky and the sea were conjoined son and daughter of earth's desire to stand in front of the mirror. One could argue that Mabel was not normal. She was Special.

Willam loved Mabel. Not like human folks did. They were two birds, Laysan Albatrosses, monogamous, in eternal love - 'Til Death Do Us Part. They met to mate only once in a year. To love each other. To solidify their bond for a week or two. They locked little feet, flipping, spinning, and twirling through the air as their desires took over their longing. Then, they parted.

Not this time. William noticed that Mabel didn't see the ground rushing as they flew close to the lake. He flipped himself with all his might and grabbed her before she dived into her own image.

He was not angry. Like human folks did. Her quiet absence of words had not missed him. He didn't urge her to speak either. They just sat on a scarlet autumn tree. No words were spoken. None needed. He kept his little wing over her. To protect her.

Then she spoke. "I saw her in the river. She looked dazed, lost and dark. Her wings were imperfect, her beak was dull and her eyes looked aged. The nape was stretched. She was me as I never wish to be". She loved herself no more.

William loved Mabel. He saw the little drop of the ocean in her eyes. His Mabel was drowning in her own depths. He had never learned to swim. He was ordinary.

But, he must be brave now. He pointed to the lake and flew. She followed. To the lake.

He made her sit on a little tree trunk by the lake. He flew higher than ever before and brought a piece of cotton from the cloud father. He dipped it in clear water and wiped her tears and her face. He borrowed a little white fluffy seed of cottonwood from the breeze and a little orange, a little yellow hue from the sunset. Gently he painted her face in shades of orange and yellow. A scarlet autumn leaf kissed her beak to leave a little red. The night left its kohl in her eyes.
Butterflies flew close over her and dropped little drops of colors from their wings. The nape and her wings looked young and bright.

He pointed at the lake. She saw a new reflection. Mabel no more. She whispered "Maybelline"

Author's Note:-

Williams noticed his older sister Mabel applying a mixture of Vaseline and coal dust to her eyelashes to give them a darker, fuller look.

They started Maybelline, Newyork in 1915.