Dinner Date...an Ode to Pearl

Magpie Tales

Mag 126



artwork by Jack Vettriano

She even dreamed about it last night...how she would say it.  She wouldn't be cruel, even though he deserved words that ladies aren't accustomed to using. He certainly didn't have any trouble reeking havoc on the ordered life she carefully maintained, so why should she concern herself with his feelings? She waited, watching to see if he'd show. The ash of her third cigarette fell silently to the polished floor. Forty minutes past the hour and her anger bubbled beneath the surface. She heard the door of his precious Bugatti slam shut, leaving nothing but the rhythmical hum of the engine to break the silence.  She waited for the knock. She mustered her courage as he burst into the tiny apartment.

"Ready?" a Richard Gere lookalike mouthed sheepishly.

She swept passed him, curdling the air as all sense of decorum followed. She turned to face him, noting his chiseled chin quivering ever so slightly.

"I can promise you, Big Boy, it WILL be our last date if you take me to Round Table again."


Laurel. Not single and ever so grateful.

Doing today's with Magpie Tales , that fancilful place where writers visit every Sunday.