Rambi does a couple of deepknee bends to see if she is still capable of gamboling. From her seat on the floor- which seems to be where she will remain for a little bit, being unable to stand again-- she thinks that perhaps a gentle frolic might be preferable to a full-blown, all-out gambol.
She hums a little of "Boogie Nights" as she waits for her legs to stop cramping, and thinks about what is in her closet.
Her Deepest Secret-- not Victoria's, but Frederick's of Hollywood-- bought 19 years ago on a Valentine's Eve, and worn once. Candles were lit, husband engaged, and in the midst of the ...'s, a baby cried and then threw up all over the sheer black lace and red satin ribbons.
She never wore it again, but hung it in the back of the closet for the future when children do indeed grow up and leave home, and things do change.
Unfortunately, she hasn't the nerve to try Frederick on again. But he stays there, probably molding and motheaten, like Miss Haversham's wedding dress.
Maybe next Valentine's Day....... |
