Devotion, Ep. 22

the weekday gothic soap opera

I sat just inside the drawing room, resting. Having read the mystery book from the basement, it felt as if a glamour were put on me, like a self-reflective bibliomancy. I could see all my life within it. But blank pages remained blank regarding things too present: like today, when Emma was even now riding some poor horse alongside Whit Collings (let us hope English saddled) and David had started school late in the semester. He is gifted and so his father enrolled him in nearby Monticello Academy.

I believe I too have gifts, though I’ve put off any more schooling.

Nor could the Book of Nothing predict that Hulp would fall ill and I alone must see to the order of things at the Manse. Me, with all my concerns about upcoming social events such as music salons and the offered horseback lessons. And when might one begin hearing wedding bells? Maybe I should be the photographer, hidden in plain sight. When there’s pain, feel free to create a bit more. “Do her good.”

I looked down at my miniskirt. Emma and I had each bought one on some fanciful dare and, though spring was a ways off, I’d taken mine out. First see how you feel alone with something.

Idly, I reached under it and touched myself.

Meanwhile, Mother and Papa had put off our visit another week and it was just as well, wasn’t it? They kept up with the local press more than we, the current household, did and apparently everyone in town knew that “just the two daughters are living there now … alone.” Now I’d begun to miss my brother Evan.

I stared lazily at the fireplace.

Sometimes if I just sit here in this chair…

Lunch shall be curds and whey.