The Profound Perspectives of Sylvia Fletcher 1

“He came back from Lannisbury yesterday. Bought me a new pair of shoes and a silk cocktail dress. Not to mention the stunning pearl necklace I found on my bedside the morning after.”

“He is a keeper, Charlotte. If only my current beau would spoil me as much.”

“Loraine, don’t exaggerate.”

“I received a letter in the mail claiming that I have won the Tri-City lottery. Thirty thousand toward my next shopping spree.”

“Diana, darling! Do take me with you.”

“Scarcely a week ago, George surprised me with two first class tickets to the Republic of Korsheika. I've never been there, but I have a feeling that it will be absolutely divine. A place with such a name must be worth visiting.”

“Michelle,” one of the women interrupted her. It was Diana, the lottery winner.  She and the rest of the ladies sent seething looks in Michelle's direction.

“Yes?” Michelle said, slightly miffed that the women were interfering with her story.

“Not fair,” Charlotte said, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips. She fiddled visibly with her new pearl necklace in an attempt to bring it to the ladies’ attention, and in the process perhaps overshadowing Michelle’s fabulous account. Charlotte’s attempt failed.

Michelle shrugged and tossed a stray lock over her shoulder. “I know. And although it remains unsaid, you all wish you were me. Isn't that right, Sylvia?”

Sylvia wasn't listening. She was troubled. It was formidable. Undeniable. Inescapable.

She was old.

The End

2 comments about this story Feed