60

Introductory Text

60th Post

Posted 18 May 2016 at 18:28:05 EDT

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> Ha hum. I love waking up in the morning to the smell of fresh biscuits. The warm smell fills my dreams, a smell like friends and home and happiness. I wake up to see the sun so bright and lovely in my window. Hello day! How are you? Every day is bright and cheery when you share a house with your best friends. I can hear them downstairs singing and having fun. After a long night of spooky old dreams, it's good to be awake again in the cheery deary sunlight.
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> I unlock my bedroom door and go out into the hall. Some of my friends have left fresh piles of biscuits in the hallway, several different kinds. Wonderful! I breathe in the smell and make chirpy little sounds of glee. Heeheehee. Another day!
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> Chester Barrington comes up the stairs, looking very handsome and somber in his tuxedo.
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> "Oh, Chester!" I sing. "How is the gentleman today?"
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> Chester nods to me, gruff but debonair. "Proceedings are afoot, Madam Alice. Proceedings are afoot," he grumbles and makes his way down the hallway. That Chester. So self-serious.
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> On the stairway, Brett Turlingshire and Mansy Fairworth are in each other's arms, a lover's embrace.
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> "Oh, dear!" I cry. "I'm afraid I've interrupted your tryst!"
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> "Oh, madam, nonsense. This is no tryst. This is a destined love affair!" Brett proclaims in his ringing voice. He looks dashing in his fine, striped coat.
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> "Brett, darling, Madam Alice doesn't want to hear all that gooey talk," Mansy says in her sassy southern accent.
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> "I'll leave you two be," I say lifting the hem of my nightgown and hurrying past them.
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> When I get to the bottom of the stairs, I hear Brett murmur, "I wish the Madam would find a destined love affair of her own. She is a noble woman and deserves somebody to treat her well."
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> "You just worry about treating me well," Mansy purrs, nuzzling against his cheek.
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> I scurry off before they catch me listening. In the downstairs parlor, Raymond Decks, Montrose Pardonsmith and Elise Rapier are having tea together. The smell of biscuits fills the room. A fresh heap of toffee-colored scones covers the coffee table. A wonderful selection of pastries lies in the corner, and several of the chairs contain more treats.
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> "Hello dearies! How are we today?"
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> "Can't complain," Raymond says.
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> "Splendid!" Sir Pardonsmith intones.
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> Elise merely lets out a little sigh.
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> "Elise, are we not feeling well?" I ask, coming over to where she is perched on the arm of the couch.
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> "Eh. Should we be? Life is but a vague dream which disrupts the sleep of death," she murmurs in her smoky French accent.
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> "Oh, Elise. Must you be such an existentialist?"
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> "Je ne suis pas un existentialiste," she mutters, getting up and stalking off.
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> "Poor Elise," I say as she leaves the room.
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> "She is affected by that peculiar continental ennui," Sir Pardonsmith observes. "I say she needs a dose of sturdy American optimism."
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> "Her birthday is coming soon. Perhaps we should throw her a party," I suggest.
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> "Ha! A party for Elise? That would go over like a Bar Mitzvah for Goebbels," Raymond says.
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> "Oh, Raymond!" I say, tousling his orange hair. "Well, we'll have to figure out something for her. I don't like her moping about."
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> "She's an inveterate mope. There's no changing her," Raymond says.
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> "You may be right, sir," I say, sighing. Well, c'est la vie. Not everybody can be as happy as I am.
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> Some years ago, I was much like Elise. Down the dumps. A real gray cloud. Then I met a lovely young woman who happened to be passing through my neighborhood. Her name was Angelica. It had been a long time since I had enjoyed the delights of society, but Angelica had a very mature, soothing presence, despite her youth. I lived a large house where my family had once resided but was now empty, so I asked her to stay with me. She accepted just like that. Can you imagine it? Two strangers just making a home together? It must have been kismet.
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> She was my precious angel treasure. Absolutely heaven sent. I had been something of an existentialist myself, disbelieving in God and thinking his creation a cruel trap for human prey. But then he saw it fit to bring Angelica into my life, and I never doubted him again. I found her company such a balm that I decided to open my home to whoever needed a place to stay. Singletons, couples, whole families have stayed with me. Many children have been born in this house.
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> Though dear sweet Angelica has long since passed way, her friendship is still a daily gift to me. For on the day I met her, I made a choice to simply not feel sadness or worry or fear ever again. And I haven't. Do you think it impossible? It is possible, if you simply surround yourself with loved ones. That's the secret.
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> With all these thoughts in mind, I walk into the kitchen to see Reginald Strongton, Linda Mercychowder and Marshall Futz clamoring for their breakfast.
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> "Madam, I'm famished!" Reginald cries.
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> "Oh, dear Madam! We starve! We want! We waste away!" Linda says in a tremulous voice.
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> "Oh, mercy. I left you with a kingly feast last night. Have you eaten it all?" I ask.
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> "It was not us. We had not a bite. It was that Chester Barrington, the scoundrel!" Reginald cries. "He is voracious and utterly selfish. I found him down here, helping himself to your generosity, and when I tried to serve myself the smallest morsel, he attacked me. Attacked me, madam! My nose still smarts."
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> "Oh, that Chester does have an appetite. But I find it hard to believe such a gentleman would attack you."
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> "Eh, I am on the verge of swooning," Marshall croaks.
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> "Alright, dears, let's have ourselves a proper breakfast," I say.
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> I get a bag of cuisine from the cabinet and pour it into china bowls for Reginald, Linda, and Marshall and myself. I clear off the love-biscuits that somebody left on the kitchen table, and we all sit down to eat. My little friends immediately proceed with chowing down, and I am about to follow suit, but I notice something that brings me a wonderful thrill.
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> There is a stranger standing in the doorway to the kitchen. I have never seen her before. She appears to have snuck into the house alone. She stands there, tense and alert, her yellow eyes taking in the scene. I am breathless. She is beautiful, extraordinary, exquisite. She reminds me of my sweet Angelica. Oh, lovely day! I am about to have a new friend!
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