“Oh, here come those darling little babies. Doesn’t their mother have them dressed in the most adorable frocks? I wonder where they’re off to in such a hurry?” Two matronly women pushed matching perambulators with vigor, each wearing their cleaned and pressed Sunday best. The ladies with their frilly charges took up the entire breadth of the sidewalk, while worshippers fresh out of church stepped into the street to avoid a collision.
“Very pretty, indeed. But, well, I see clearly…um, that is to say; the girls are as similar to their parents as night is to day, if you take my meaning."
“Beg your pardon, Louise. I forget that you are only recently moved to our humble burgh. Everyone in these parts is familiar with the Caine family and their singular situation.”
"I only know they live on the outskirts of town and keep to themselves," Louise replied as she watched the well-starched nannies maneuver their baby buggies with great agility against a surge of townsfolk.
Well, an interesting pair. Artists.” Phyllis paused, waiting for that designation, and all that it implied, to work its way into Louise’s brain. Phyllis huffed when she received nary a snort or a tsk-tsk from her companion, so she continued. "In any event, you’ve probably not heard?
“Heard what, Phyllis?”
“Not here. Let us find a place to sit and enjoy the lovely afternoon.” The women strolled up to a bench at the entrance to the arboretum. Families with picnic hampers scurried to secure a prime piece of lawn beneath ancient oak and hawthorn. Phyllis shooed away two boys parked on the bench who were fighting over a balsa wood glider.
“Go take that elsewhere, lads." As the boys scuttled off toward the park's reflecting pool, Louise's gaze lingered on the ginger-haired boys.
"What is it, Louise? Phyllis nodded her head toward the empty bench.
"Oh, nothing really. I thought the boys looked familiar, is all. Familiar from where I can't quite say." As the pair sat down, Phyllis looked off into the distance and sighed.
"The familiar prevents us from living in a world of limitless possibilities." Phyllis reached into her pocketbook and pulled out a silver flask inlaid with a twining vine motif. She took the smallest of sips from it before offering the flask to Louise. "It helps refresh one's senses after being cooped up in a stuffy old church all morning." Louise raised an eyebrow at the proffered refreshment, but accepted it all the same. "Now, listen up," Phyllis said as Louise handed back the flask. "I have a story to tell."
compliance implied
Semi-Daily Scribbles 