Wings Unfolding-1

Quick note: For those who have been brave enough to stick with me for several years, the first month or so of this blog will be familiar. I promise there is new stuff brewing in the wings. :)

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Wings Unfolding

Was this a time of new beginnings? Or unnecessary endings? Perhaps it was a bit of both...

The wrought iron fence spiked from the ground, a stiff, stoic sentry separating the public from the private. Monroe tried to see the house as though she were a stranger passing by. It was hard to do. She knew too well the soft blue that swaddled it when the sun shone. Today the paint faded into the shadows under weak winter light, turning lethargic gray, deepening to charcoal in the nooks and crannies.

At one corner the house jabbed into the air, imitating the fence. The balancing twin turret stood guard on the other corner. It looked like some ghoulish Halloween nightmare, begging for respect and dignity, but earning only suspicion and disdain, a bat trying to be a butterfly.

Monroe rubbed her chilled hands together, then moved the shoulder strap of her handbag closer to her neck, before reaching down to slide leather gloves from the pocket of her black wool coat. After pulling them on, she laced her fingers and wiggled them to settle the gloves firmly over each finger. It felt like a handshake, sealing the pact she had made between herself and her future. She smoothed the coat over her hips, made sure the belt was looped just so, and took a deep breath.

She let herself in through the front pedestrian gate and walked the steep sidewalk to the portico. There she took a seat on the oak bench by the door where oftentimes guests would wait for a car to be pulled around, and where considerate gentlemen would sit to smoke. She folded a glove back to look at the time; it wouldn't be long now.

Needing something to do with her hands, she pulled her handbag into her lap and fumbled inside for a lighter and a cigarette. Fumbled horribly. Good thing she hadn't waited to carry out this part of the charade. It seemed to take forever to coordinate it all. Who would have known that lighting a cigarette would be such a detailed process?

Finally it was done. Monroe let it burn, occasionally flicking ash into the empty flower urn at hand. She raised the smoke to her mouth getting close enough, she felt, to give the appearance of actually smoking it. Truth be told, the smell alone was turning her stomach. But it was a good ruse, too good to pass up.

I should feel guilty Monroe thought misleading my own family and Patrick too.

Tune in tomorrow for the next exciting episode of Wings Unfolding :)