This post is part of Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday meme -an unedited stream of consciousness piece that ties into the weekly prompt: the word “bone”. I used the word in several ways in this free-written snippet from my current novel-in-progress, Generations: Kifo Island Chronicles #2.
Gladys is attending a wedding reception when there is an unexpected bone of contention among the guests. Here, she contemplates what’s happened, and life, as she watches the party get back on its feet after the disturbance.
Those of you who’ve been reading here for a while might recognize some names from Transitions, KIC #1, but it’s not necessary to have read any previous excerpts to follow along here.
And, for those who were wondering, yes, I did briefly consider writing a piece that dealt with a different interpretation of the word ‘bone’. But that would’ve been too easy, and wouldn’t have fit this scene nearly so well.
I’ve included two of my favorite songs – although it wasn’t intentional, I suspect they had more than a little to do with what emerged today…enjoy!
Like A Fork Screeching on Bone China
Terrance Acosta’s invasion was like a fork screeching on bone china. Gladys wasn’t so familiar with the drugs of choice these days – her own mild explorations had ended over seven decades ago. But there was no doubt that this man was high on something – dangerously high, and just as clearly dying as she was. He’d shrugged away from Donovan, staggered back out the doors of the club, and was gone –
But his words lingered, in the silence he left behind.
“So you’re happy playing with a toy man?”
The musicians slowly went back to playing, and both Donovan and Karina began moving through the room, stopping to chat for a moment with this guest, and that. Gradually, the room returned to a more festive air, with the clatter of the plates, the murmur of conversation, the dancers whirling and spinning in a way that made her long for young strong bones, and a body free of disease, so that she could join them again.
Oh, she missed dancing! She would so have loved to have danced with Barry – his motions were so elegant, so graceful, so understated, he reminded her of the men she’d danced with on stage, and on film, every one dead now.
All of them had had secrets. Everyone did.
Barry was as honorable a man as Corinne had said he was. If he’d been born something else, what difference did that make, to who he was now? What right did his husband have, to out him in front of a roomful of guests at someone else’s wedding reception? She’d heard of the trouble at Corinne’s – her shop had been closed all day, as she tended to the mess left behind. Mr. Acosta had been with someone; someone who seemed to be from the darker parts of the island, the parts Howard frequented, and thought she knew nothing about.
Gladys watched the party picking up, but the echoes were still in her mind.
“We both know he’s more than that, Terry, and pretending he isn’t won’t change that. He’s the man I love.”
“He’s my husband!”
There was nothing new under the sun. That’s what she’d said to Corinne and Barry, the first time she’d seen them together. It was just as true now. Different flavors, different shadings – but the same old stories…
She remembered Barry standing there, with the look of realization, of a breaking point reached as surely as if all of those bone china plates had crashed to the floor at once.
“Not anymore. I’m filing for divorce first thing Monday morning. I can’t be married to you anymore – not now.”
Joy and sorrow. Beginnings, and endings. Shattering, and mending. Donovan and Karina, cutting their wedding cake…
Gladys watched it all, bone weary, feeling the weight of every one of her ninety-eight years.