zimmie
02-10-2010, 12:04 AM
The steam rose from the silver rimmed china cup, which sparkled from the sunlight that shone through the Venetian blinds. As she sat down in her armchair in the corner of the living room, she put on her reading glasses and studied the address that was written on the envelope she had been clutching. She sighed to herself, gently caressing the corners of the envelope briefly, before carefully placing it on the table next to the telephone. She allowed herself a consoling smile before getting on with the task at hand.
“Right, I shall place that ad now” she declared to herself with a hint of determination.
She picked up her notepad and her pen, which she tapped against her hand as she pondered what to write. 'Dancing partner needed' she wrote, before pausing and staring vacantly at the words she had just written. She thought back to the first time she met Brian at the ballroom in Blackpool, to the first time she saw him in his black suit and tie; his polished shoes and hair; that look he gave her from across the hall. Her thoughts were broken by the rhythmic tapping of the pen, which was in tune to the Wurlitzer. Her smile diminished as she hastily scribbled out the words she had just written.
DANCING PARTNER WANTED she wrote in capitals before sipping her tea, placing it carefully back on the placemat as she sat back in her chair. She thought of who might reply to such a message – a middle aged divorcé perhaps, someone who dressed smart and was courteous and kind, or maybe a younger man, a professional wanting to hone his skills with someone experienced? Then she thought - what of Audrey? Who might they be expecting? A ragged old widower hoping to re-trace the footsteps of her past? She thought to herself it didn’t really matter anyway – nobody could replace Brian. Nobody could arise in her the intense passion she felt when their bodies pressed against each other as they fox-trotted across that ballroom. Nobody could make her feel as contented as she felt when he held her tightly on the dance floor; her head nestled on his shoulder.
She took off her glasses and reached over for another sip of tea. Glancing over at the bookshelf, her eyes were drawn to Brian’s as he smiled back from the middle shelf; her hands clinging to his svelte frame as they held each other close. A burst of mid-morning sunlight reflected against the glass, disturbing her gaze. She looked down at her notepad, her hand hovering over the words she had written; her head bowed slightly.
“I think I might even try Salsa too” she chuckled to herself as she sat back in her chair, resting the notepad and pen on her lap.
She picked up the telephone and began to dial, her fingertips softly pressing the window of the envelope that was on the table.
“Right, I shall place that ad now” she declared to herself with a hint of determination.
She picked up her notepad and her pen, which she tapped against her hand as she pondered what to write. 'Dancing partner needed' she wrote, before pausing and staring vacantly at the words she had just written. She thought back to the first time she met Brian at the ballroom in Blackpool, to the first time she saw him in his black suit and tie; his polished shoes and hair; that look he gave her from across the hall. Her thoughts were broken by the rhythmic tapping of the pen, which was in tune to the Wurlitzer. Her smile diminished as she hastily scribbled out the words she had just written.
DANCING PARTNER WANTED she wrote in capitals before sipping her tea, placing it carefully back on the placemat as she sat back in her chair. She thought of who might reply to such a message – a middle aged divorcé perhaps, someone who dressed smart and was courteous and kind, or maybe a younger man, a professional wanting to hone his skills with someone experienced? Then she thought - what of Audrey? Who might they be expecting? A ragged old widower hoping to re-trace the footsteps of her past? She thought to herself it didn’t really matter anyway – nobody could replace Brian. Nobody could arise in her the intense passion she felt when their bodies pressed against each other as they fox-trotted across that ballroom. Nobody could make her feel as contented as she felt when he held her tightly on the dance floor; her head nestled on his shoulder.
She took off her glasses and reached over for another sip of tea. Glancing over at the bookshelf, her eyes were drawn to Brian’s as he smiled back from the middle shelf; her hands clinging to his svelte frame as they held each other close. A burst of mid-morning sunlight reflected against the glass, disturbing her gaze. She looked down at her notepad, her hand hovering over the words she had written; her head bowed slightly.
“I think I might even try Salsa too” she chuckled to herself as she sat back in her chair, resting the notepad and pen on her lap.
She picked up the telephone and began to dial, her fingertips softly pressing the window of the envelope that was on the table.