. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . where ImagInatIon comes to play

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

The Artist

part v:
.
“Hey, Nance!” Lena yelled up, “Dad wants you working in the store tonight.”

“I can’t! Tonight’s the ---”

“I can’t hear you, Nancy.”

“I’m cooo-miiing.” She stood on the landing in the black chic she was prone to wearing these days. Her lips and nails painted a deep burgundy, her bangs sweeping over the sixteen year old’s deep brown eyes. In the briefest of moments, Nancy went from sexy to sullen. “Mom. Mom? You promised!”

“Jes’ go down an’ talk weet your fawder.”

“But mom...”

Her mother mumbled something in Polish and Nancy knew her fate was already sealed.


“Nancy... Nancy?” Richard’s voice brought her back to the baggage carousel where she stood waiting, wondering if some guys in the back we’re busy duct-taping her luggage back together.

“Richard? I’m sorry. I must have been... How are you? I mean...Hi Richard.” She leaned to kiss him on the cheek.

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