Food & Drink Here: Myas’ Place
A mysterious road-stop when you need it. Walking, biking, driving, passing by better than Brigadoon it appears. You’re not sure you’d noticed it before…
The blue was sapphire, a birthstone but her friend’d bought her the old-world kind that looked almost black. Set in diamond chips caught in gold and silver braid it was gorgeous, true, but more than that spoke volumes of what she thought of her, how she perceived her, not so much as traditional which she could be, instead ageless, classical, unique.
There were none like her.
I could say Mildred’d bought Fran a bracelet made of old world sapphire, diamond chips, silver and gold for her bon voyage party. The camera was at the ready as she aligned the first round of Jagermeister.
The Prompt This Week:
“The blue was sapphire…”
She lay across the bed on a soft pillow settling in with Stephen King, one of her favorite authors of suspense and the macabre. No spring chicken but she wasn’t dead yet, she looked over at the light on her desk. Would it reach?
“If the print’s big enough and it’s bright enough I shouldn’t have a problem.”
She began the first paragraph getting through all right, only twice she had to angle the book so she could see better.
“More light. I need more light.”
She dropped her head catching an eyeful of her own cleavage nicely shaped in her v’d cashmere sweater the pillow was molding.
“Those were the days. That’ll change as soon as I stand.” She looked around the room. “Nothing but crappy lighting here. No standing lamps, nothing easy to move. How am I going to get better lighting and be able to stay right where I am and be comfortable?”
She lay there listening to the tocking of the small clock on the top shelf.
“I’ll try again.”
Within reasonable time I got a call. “I think this is a good opportunity for you. Better than living with Beatriz. These two are business partners, proprietors of a health food / organic goods store. I sensed some good kharma when I spoke to them. There’s definitely good kharma. They smoke but not in the house. They take it outside so their flat doesn’t get dirty from smoke.” Knowing the agent was a South American living in Spain, I was impressed with her use of kharma while my teacher-brain mused if she really understood what it meant. I mentally gave her A-plus for effort and asked the same question I’d asked the first time, “is this for long term?” Most schools require a year’s contract. The schools where I taught wanted me to stay for the calendar teaching year even if they weren’t giving me an actual contract. “Yes, they want someone long term. They said definitely long term.” She gave me the contact information for my second good opportunity and I arranged to meet one of my potential roommates (or flatmates if you’re British), a woman named Mattia, the next evening.
Oh, by the way,
I found out from a British colleague that flatmate and roommate hold two different meanings. For Americans, roommate simply means the person you share your apartment or dorm with, you know – the rent and utilities, so in American English roommate would be equivalent to flatmate. For everyone else in the world, roommate means someone you share your bedroom with and implies something more intimate. So if you go on a gameshow and are asked this question and win a bi-zillion dollars because you were the only one who knew the answer…
“How could you have reacted that way in class Soren? Blurting out the story of Abraham and Isaac to use against my “Madman” lecture, working in your ‘knight of faithful infinite resignation’ as if there were hope of proving a point!”
“Well Freidrich, in my lecture “Preliminary Expectoration…”
“Expectoration! I think the reason you favor the madman is you two have so much in common… An underlying reflection? Your id battling your ego in a losing battle? If the id wins so does the madman. The only thing that could possibly overcome your id is your ego.”
“My ego… !”
100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups:
What are they saying?
Queens I means those guys
Pretty cabinets Moet e Chandon do rely
Live free like birds in the sky
I’d hoped you were still alive and had faked your death because I annoyed you in some way, but I looked up your obituary. You really have passed, somehow I knew. A dream not long after followed, nothing I’d planned. You stunned in a white sweater, turtleneck, white slacks, something you never wore. A clue. Your kitchen was brilliant, dazzling brighter than the sun. You always kept it clean but not like this. We sat down for coffee as we’d so often done. You are happy and at peace. Checking in proved to be good for you.
Friends in high places, maybe for me too.
The prompt is: “checking in proved to be…”