“All hail Thelma, La donna brillante!” Said Maurice Petro. The cheer of Thelma’s guests surged around her like a great wave as glasses were raised with such enthusiasm as to rain down upon her table a shower of Chardonnay. Thelma smiled. “And much cuter than that other Donna!” She replied, “Maurice, I want a cake, can you get me a cake? with a big glittery hat please, I’d like to feel like a princess on my birthday. Waiter, bring me a big cake and a hat and some dancing girls!” “Anything for you ma belle,” Maurice replied.
“Thelma, what about opus 111, do you plan on re-recording it now that those new micro-,” “Shut up, Elize. Maurice, when is Minna arriving? I thought she was to arrive here by 7 and it is now 8. Did you send over that dufus driver again, he’s probably stopped somewhere to use the bathroom and forgot how to flush?” “Ah, yes, ma belle, I must have forgot to tell you; Minna called us a few hours ago it seems that she will be unable to make it tonight, but you have all your other friends here and I’m sure we can have just as much fun without her. Besides, look at that Daniel over there doesn’t he look just ravishing tonight? And I heard he might be interested in keeping you company all night, would you like me to arrange for you a special room for you? Themla?”
Thelma looked down through her glass of Chardonnay and listened for a moment to the throng of guests gathered around her, Suddenly, she gets up and begins to walk away. One of her guests calls to her as she is taking her first steps from the table, “Oh Thelma, while you’re up why don’t you tell the parton to put on ‘Marche Des Jolies Femmes’ so we can all dance?”
“’Joli Femmes’ you fucking tart why don’t you ask him yourself and stop painting your face like ‘Une joli pute qui marche la rue’.” and with that Thelma snatched up her coat and walked towards the door of the resturaunt hunched like the lone ringer of some church bell.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment