May 9th, 1821

Daisy and Alan Grander arrived late yesterday night. While waiting for them I saw aunt Emeline looking nervously at the cold roasted goose for long minutes, letting the ash of her cigarette fall on the kitchen floor. Her cheeks were bright pink. She could not help playing with her ridiculously large rings. Her whole attitude appeared to me completely out of phase with the situation which had a slightly distressing element to it.

But when the long-awaited couple arrived, Emeline put on her composed mask and dinner was served moments after she cried “Veronica!” in an exaggeratedly loud voice without taking her eyes off Daisy’s dress.

It was a pleasant evening. Daisy and Alan have that energy from the city, a New York magical dust that leaves an invisible trace behind them wherever they go like an intoxicating perfume that stays on clothes and curtains. They made uncle George smile. They talk fast and like to dance and seem to love each other. But in the fog of appearances, one can hardly tell which thoughts, feelings and truths lay behind staring bright blue eyes or pressed lips.

I look forward to talking with Daisy tomorrow if I have the chance. I find her slightly palpable sadness moving

No comments yet.

Have your say

Copyright © 2011 In The Dappled Days — All Rights Reserved

based on Mono Columnist wordpress theme © 2010.